UC-NRLF 


111 


<--.v 


AND    OTHER    ADDRESSES 


BY 


JOHN  COLLINS  JACKSON,  D.  D.  Ph.  D. 

LATE  EDITOR  OF  THE  AMERICAN  ISSUE 


Published  By 

THE  AMERICAN  ISSUE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
WESTERVILLE,  OHIO 


COPYRIGHT  1910 
BY  THE  AMERICAN  ISSUE  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 


Contents 


Foreword      ----------6 

Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga      -      -      -      -  9 

The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies  of  the 

Civil  War      -- 39 

Stephen,  the  Model  Layman     ------  55 

The  Feast  of  Ingathering             -      -      -      -      -  71 

The  Mediation  of  Character  Between 

Learning  and  Life      ------  89 

The  Dead  Hand 113 

The  Man  With  One  Talent 123 

The  Sermon  on  Number  in  Nature     -     -     -     -  133 

Biographical  History     -      -       -----  159 

272299 


FOREWORD 


In  complying  with  the  request  of  my  deceased 
cousin's  wife,  Mrs.  Viola  Chase  Jackson,  that  I  select 
from  her  husband's  writings,  and  prepare  for  publi 
cation,  enough  articles  of  various  kinds  to  constitute 
a  memorial  volume,  the  embarrassment  has  mainly 
been  to  decide  among  the  competing  merits  of  the 
numerous  productions  he  has  left.  I  have  endeavored 
to  reveal  the  diversity  of  his  literary  gifts  and  tastes 
by  combining  here  a  few  sermons,  lectures,  and  ad 
dresses.  Want  of  space  ruled  out  even  one  of  his 
several  excellent  stories,  since  it  seemed  fiction  ought 
to  yield  where  so  small  a  portion  of  his  solid  work 
could  be  included.  More  than  one  volume  could  be 
published  from  his  sermonic  lore  which,  I  feel,  would 
rank  with  the  best  pulpit  thought  of  our  times. 

It  has  been  a  pleasant  task  to  traverse  these 
fields  of  study  anew,  many  of  which  we  had,  at  in 
tervals,  discussed  together  during  our  years  of  minis 
terial  commingling.  Sons  of  fathers  who  were 
brothers,  and  of  mothers  who  were  sisters,  and  both 
bearing  the  name  of  our  maternal  grandfather,  John 
Collins,  it  was  our  fortune  to  be  pupils  together  in 
the  same  district  school,  and  the  same  Sunday  School, 
— to  be  reared  and  converted  in  the  same  little  rural 


chapel,  and  finally  to  enter  the  same  Conference,  and, 
for  twelve  years,  to  live  and  preach  contempora 
neously  in  the  same  capital  city,  Columbus,  Ohio. 

All  of  this  happened,  after  my  uncle's  objection, 
in  my  infancy — protesting  that  I  ought  not  to  have 
the  same  name  as  his  son,  as  it  would  cause  confusion 
in  years  to  come.  To  this  my  father  is  said  to  have 
replied,  laughingly:  "Why,  they  may  not  be  within 
a  thousand  miles  of  each  other  when  they  grow  to 
manhood."  In  our  childhood,  our  parents  and  their 
two  families,  with  ten  children  between  them,  spent 
one  entire  winter  together  under  my  father's  roof, 
comfortably  and  happily,  in  a  house  with  but  eight 
rooms  including  the  kitchen.  Let  parents  with  but 
one  or  two  children,  who  feel  cramped  in  modern 
nine  or  ten-room  houses,  ponder  this  problem  to  their 
profit. 

Being  two-and-a-half  years  my  senior,  my  earliest 
recollection  of  my  cousin  name-sake  is  that  of  look 
ing  up,  with  childish  awe  and  admiration,  to  him,  who 
was  the  natural-born  leader  of  the  group  of  "the  six 
Jackson  boys,"  as  the  neighborhood  knew  them, — the 
trio  in  each  family  ranging  two  and  two  in  almost 
identically  corresponding  ages.  My  cousin's  native 
abilities  and  energies  maintained  for  him  that  primal 
ascendency,  in  my  estimation,  thruout  life.  Tho 
more  than  once  we  crossed  swords  in  ardent  the 
ological  or  social  combat,  with  strained  relations  en 
suing  temporarily,  we  never  were  enemies.  Origin 
ally  he  was  progressive  in  theology,  while  I  was  con 
servative;  and  he  was  conservative  in  temperance  re- 


form  where  I  was  a  radical.  Both  changed, 
but  neither  retrogressed.  I  attained  to  his 
advanced  theological  positions,  and  he  abandoned 
"regulation"  for  "prohibition"  in  social  reform.  What 
he  did  in  the  latter  field,  after  once  breaking  loose 
from  his  old  political  moorings,  the  world  will  long 
know.  Reform  became  his  ruling  passion,  and  it  was 
strong  even  in  death. 

When  I  last  visited  him  but  a  short  time  before 
his  decease,  he  was  lying  on  his  bed,  in  great  suffer 
ing,  but  writing  away  with  an  uncontrolable  inten 
sity.  He  told  me  his  mind  had  never  been  so  active 
as  then,  and  said :  "I  don't  know  whether  this  will 
last  five  months  more,  or  five  weeks  more,  or  five 
days  more ;  but  I  intend  to  work  the  old  machine  for 
all  that's  in  it  up  to  the  last."  Never  was  a  grim  reso 
lution  more  rigidly  kept.  One  year  ago  today,  I 
received  a  telegram  at  seven  o'clock  announcing  that 
he  had  passed  away  at  about  five  that  morning.  An 
hour  later  I  received  a  letter  from  him  post-marked 
eleven-thirty  the  preceding  night.  If  there  has  been 
a  more  intense  and  courageous  personality  than  his, 
it  has  not  fallen  within  my  knowledge.  And  now  I 
send  forth  this  sample  volume  of  his  work,  and  feel 
that  thru  it  "he,  being  dead,  yet  speaketh." 

JOHN  C.  JACKSON. 

London,  Ohio,  June  5,   1910. 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga. 


CHAPTER  I. 
The  Situation  Confronting  Grant. 

We  take  our  stand  in  September,  1863,  in  imagina 
tion,  in  the  town  of  Chattanooga.  To  the  eastward 
about  two  miles  and  a  half,  and  trending  away  to  the 
southwest,  is  Missionary  Ridge,  so  called  from  an 
Indian  Mission  established  upon  it  at  an  early  day.  It 
is  a  rugged  range,  about  six  miles  in  length  and  from 
three  hundred  to  eight  hundred  feet  in  height,  scored 
with  gullies  and  covered  with  rocks  and  thin  timber. 
Coming  up  toward  us  from  the  south,  about  two 
and  a  half  miles  away,  is  Lookout,  a  long  mountain 
running  southward  two  or  three  miles,  terminating 
at  the  northern  end  near  us  in  a  sharp  ascent  about 
two  thousand  feet  high,  and  crowned  with  lofty 
palisades  of  rock,  which  extend  back  along  the  crest. 
From  the  summit  there,  you  can  look  into  seven 
states.  Down  yonder  in  the  southwest,  Missionary 
Ridge  and  Lookout  Mountain  come  close  together. 
Through  the  opening  between,  called  Chattanooga 
Valley,  goes  the  road  to  Chicamauga  River — the 
"River  of  Death"  in  the  Indian  tongue  —  where  the 
battle  of  that  name  was  fought.  On  the  southward 
slope  of  Missionary  Ridge  it  was  that  Thomas,  "the 


10  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

Rock  of  Chicamauga,"  stood  all  that  long  afternoon 
until  the  September  sun  amid  flame  and  smoke  went 
down  the  coppery  sky,  and  saved  the  day.  One  of  his 
aids  tells  me  the  only  time  he  ever  saw  Thomas  move 
his  horse  out  of  a  slow  trot  was  that  day  when  he  was 
rallying  his  men.  And  through  that  mountain  gap 
our  army  retreated  to  Chattanooga.  Turning  north 
ward,  from  the  far  east,  opposite  the  northern  end  of 
Missionary  Ridge,  runs  Walden's  Ridge,  extending  a 
mile  or  so  away  all  along  the  north,  clear  away  to  the 
west.  Across  Walden's  Ridge  winds  a  narrow,  rocky, 
mountain  wagon-road  to  Stevenson,  Alabama.  Be 
tween  Walden's  Ridge  and  Lookout  Mountain,  and 
reaching  far  back  behind  Lookout  Mountain,  is  Look 
out  Valley.  Down  diagonally  through  the  green  land 
scape,  from  between  Missionary  Ridge  and  Walden's 
Ridge,  comes  the  Tennessee  River,  looking  like  a  rib 
bon  of  silver.  It  winds  around  the  town  four  miles, 
then  takes  a  turn  southward  toward  Lookout  Moun 
tain,  and  then  northward,  leaving  a  broad  tongue  of 
land  opposite  Lookout,  called  from  it's  shape,  Moc 
casin  Point,  and  then  flows  out  at  the  western  end  of 
Walden's  Ridge.  From  the  same  quarter  also  comes 
the  Nashville  and  Chatanooga  Railroad.  It  pierces 
Missionary  Ridge  near  the  northern  end  at  Tunnel 
Hill,  follows  the  Tennessee  down  by  the  City,  on  past 
it  between  Moccasin  Point  and  Lookout  Mountain, 
then  on  through  Lookout  Valley,  and  so  at  last  to 
Bridgeport,  Alabama.  This  is  a  mighty  frame  for  the 
battle  picture; — Missionary  Ridge  to  the  east  and 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  11 

south;  Lookout  Mountain  coming  up  from  the  south, 
along  the  west;  Walden's  Ridge  on  the  north;  the 
Tennessee  flowing  down  past  the  town  and  curving 
around  Moccasin  Point;  and  the  railroad  coming 
through  Tunnel  Hill  down  the  stream,  passing  the 
town,  and  going  out  at  Lookout  Valley.  It  is  one  of 
the  most  magnificent  views  in  America,  a  fit  setting 
for  the  mighty  drama  soon  to  be  enacted  within  it's 
mountain  walls  and  along  it's  winding  river.  So  grand 
was  it  that  General  Sherman  says :  "Many  a  time,  in 
the  midst  of  the  carnage  and  noise,  I  could  not  help 
stopping,  to  look  across  that  vast  field  of  battle,  to  ad 
mire  it's  sublimity." 

II. 

What  is  the  situation  within  this  theatre  that  con 
fronts  the  military  genuis  of  Grant?  It  is  now  the 
latter  part  of  October,  1863.  He  is  now  at  Washing 
ton,  and  has  lately  been  put  in  command  of  the  Depart 
ment  of  the  Mississippi,  over  the  armies  of  Burnside, 
Hooker,  Sherman  and  Thomas.  Burnside  is  beyond 
the  mountains  with  his  army  at  Knoxville.  Hooker  is 
one  thousand  two  hundred  miles  distant  upon  the  Po 
tomac.  Sherman  is  down  at  Memphis.  Thomas, 
who  has  been  put  in  command  of  the  army  which 
he  saved  at  Chicamauga,  is  cooped  up  in  Chat 
tanooga,  starving.  Famine,  gaunt  and  desperate, 
has  his  army  by  the  throat.  Ten  thousand  horses 
and  mules  are  dead  of  starvation,  and  thousands 
more  have  been  turned  out  to  perish  on  the  moun- 


12  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

tains.  The  only  way  of  getting  rations  is  by  that 
one  road  across  Walden's  Ridge,  from  Stevenson, 
seventy  miles  away.  With  wagon  trains  raided  and  at 
tacked  all  the  way,  and  shelled  by  the  rebel  batteries 
on  Lookout  as  they  come  into  the  city.  Since  the 
third  week,  the  men  have  been  on  quarter  rations,  and 
that  only  for  breakfast.  Once  a  day  they  have  had  a 
piece  of  salt  pork  side  meat,  big  as  three  fingers,  made 
into  a  sandwich  with  two  halves  of  a  hard-tack  crack 
er  four  inches  square,  called  "the  Lincoln  platform," 
and  one  pint  of  coffee.  The  rest  of  the  day  they  get 
what  they  can.  Men  followed  the  wagons  in  hundreds 
picking  up  the  crumbs  of  bread,  and  grains  of  coffee 
and  rice  that  rattled  out  into  the  dust.  Guards  had  to 
be  set  over  the  artillery  horses  as  they  ate,  to  prevent 
the  famishing  soldiers  from  taking  their  corn.  The 
thirty  thousand  of  Thomas'  army  lifted  their  eyes  and 
beheld  themselves  enveloped  by  sixty-five  thousand 
of  the  enemy.  From  the  northern  point  of  Missionary 
Ridge  on  the  east,  to  Lookout  Valley  on  the  west,  the 
Confederates  crowned  the  summits  with  their  batter 
ies  and  held  the  mountain  passes  with  dense  bodies  of 
infantry.  They  swarm  upon  the  mountain  sides  like 
masses  of  gray  ants  upon  their  hills.  They  thrust 
themselves  down  the  spurs  and  advance  their  works 
toward  the  city.  They  fortify  Orchard  Knob,  a  hill 
a  hundred  feet  high,  three-fourths  of  a  mile  away. 
By  day,  ever  since  the  fifth  of  October,  the  guns  of 
Missionary  Ridge  have  been  growling  at  our  left.  On 
the  right,  great  shells  often  come  tumbling  down  from 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  13 

Lookout  like  meteors  from  the  sky.  On  the  center, 
Thomas  sends  back  shells  from  Fort  Wood  on  the  edge 
of  Chattanooga,  shrieking  like  lost  spirits  in  their  flight, 
which  sweep  men  and  horses  from  the  Ridge.  By  night 
the  Confederate  bands  play  "Dixie"  on  the  mountains, 
and  the  Union  bands  answer  back  from  the  plain  with 
"Hail  Columbia"  and  "The  Star  Spangled  Banner." 
Bragg  announces  that  in  five  days  more  he  will  have 
the  place;  and  his  pickets  boast  they  will  spend  the 
Yankee  Thanksgiving  in  it.  But  meanwhile,  Grant  has 
telegraphed  Thomas  to  keep  Chatanooga  at  all  haz 
ards,  and  Thomas  has  replied:  "I  will  hold  the  town 
till  we  starve."  Grant  has  ordered  Hooker  from  the 
Potomac,  twelve  hundred  miles  away,  with  twenty- 
three  thousand;  and  Sherman  from  Memphis,  with 
sixteen  thousand  men,  and  all  are  hastening  as  fast 
as  steam  or  their  own  legs  can  bring  them.  And  on  the 
twenty-third  day  of  October,  Grant,  a  small  pale  man, 
on  crutches  from  a  recent  fall  of  his  horse,  has  worked 
his  way  into  Chattanooga  from  Stevenson,  and  for  the 
first  time  surveys  the  military  problem  he  was  made 
commander  to  solve. 

III. 

And  now  look  at  the  problem  set  him,  and  his  plan 
for  it's  solution.  The  task  is  an  appalling  one.  Briefly 
it  is  to  dislodge  a  veteran  and  victorious  enemy,  fully 
equaling  his  own  forces,  from  those  apparently  inac 
cessible  mountain-tops,  surrounding  the  town  on  three 
sides,  and  shutting  it  up  on  the  fourth,  to  a  river  half 


14  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

a  mile  wide,  which  cannot  be  crossed  under  the  guns 
and  attack  of  the  foe,  even  if  Grant  had  boats  and  pon 
toons,  which  he  has  not.  As  I  stood  there  afterward, 
talking  with  Confederate  soldiers,  I  said:  "It  seems 
to  me  all  the  armies  of  the  earth  ought  not  to  have 
been  able  to  get  sixty-five  thousand  men  out  of  these 
mountain  tops."  Grant  himself  declares  it  wras  "a  vic 
tory  gained  under  the  most  discouraging  circumstan 
ces  of  the  war."  What  were  the  simple  but  matchless 
tactics,  conceived  in  a  moment  of  inspiration  on  that 
twenty-third  of  October,  that  did  the  work?  Before 
him  stretched  the  Confederate  lines  upon  those  sum 
mits,  from  Tunnel  Hill,  at  the  north  end  of  Mission 
ary  Ridge  on  the  east ;  down  the  east ;  down  the  south ; 
up  the  south  along  the  crest  of  Lookout,  and  over  into 
Lookout  Valley;  twelve  miles  long;  sixty-five  thous 
and  men  of  them;  over  five  thousand  to  a  mile.  He 
simply  said:  "I  will  attack  that  Army  on  it's  right 
with  Sherman's  army  of  the  Tennessee;  I  will  attack 
it  on  it's  left  with  Hooker's  army  of  the  Potomac ;  I 
will  at  the  same  time  attack  with  Thomas'  army  of 
the  Cumberland  in  the  center.  Somewhere,  it  will  give 
way;  and  then  I  will  roll  it  together  in  confusion,  and 
sweep  it  from  the  field." 

IV. 

Let  us  next  watch  the  execution  of  the  plan.  On 
the  twenty-third  of  October,  we  said,  Grant  got  into 
Chattanooga,  and  formed  his  scheme  of  attack.  It  was 
now  the  twenty-seventh  of  October.  The  army  of 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  15 

Hooker,  twenty-three  thousand  strong,  previously  or 
dered,  had  made  it's  twelve  hundred  mile  run  by  rail 
road,  with  all  it's  material  of  war,  in  the  unexampled 
time  of  seven  days.  It  now  stood  ready  to  knock,  with 
iron  knuckles,  at  Lookout  Mountain,  the  Southern 
gate  of  Chatanooga.  But  Sherman's  army,  hindered 
by  the  enemy,  was  not  up  yet,  and  it's  coming  must  be 
awaited  before  the  grand  attack.  Meanwhile,  there 
was  preliminary  work  to  be  done.  Grant  saw  that  all 
the  batteries  on  the  summit  of  Lookout  pointed  toward 
Chatanooga.  All  the  lines  of  intrenchments  on  the 
mountain  side,  all  the  bastions  far  down  on  it's  should 
ers  faced  the  same  way.  It  would  be  madness  to  as 
sail  Lookout  Mountain  in  front ;  some  point  of  advan 
tage  must  be  gained  to  assault  it  from  the  side  or  rear. 
That  point  he  saw  as  had  also  been  pointed  out  by 
Rosecrans,  was  Lookout  Valley,  extending  far  up  be 
hind  the  mountain.  So  a  fight  for  this  position  of  ad 
vance  was  planned  for  the  night  of  the  twenty-seventh 
of  October.  Lookout  Valley  was  held  by  an  entire 
brigade  of  Confederates.  They  were  to  be  attacked 
at  midnight  at  Wauhatchie,  by  a  detail  from  Hooker 
on  the  outside,  and  at  Whitesides  and  Shellmound  (all 
stations  on  the  railroad  through  Lookout  Valley)  by 
details  from  Thomas  on  the  inside.  The  young  officers 
met  with  Grant  to  receive  their  final  orders  just  before 
starting.  They  tarried  afterward  a  little,  expecting 
some  last  words  of  caution  or  advice.  It  was  an  hour 
big  with  importance,  the  time  for  the  junction  of 
Grant's  three  armies.  But  he  merely  looked  out  the 


16  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

window,  and  remarked  that  if  the  rain  kept  on  falling 
as  it  was  then,  "it  would  be  bad  for  the  crops  in  Ten 
nessee  next  spring."  He  felt  no  anxiety.  At  mid 
night  the  attack  was  made  at  the  three  points.  The 
enemies  positions  were  carried  with  a  rush.  The  next 
day,  Longstreet,  from  the  point  of  Lookout,  saw  the 
result  of  our  movement,  appreciated  it's  danger  to  the 
Confederate  position,  and  asked  permission  to  dis 
lodge  our  men.  His  attempt  to  do  so  was  made  on  the 
night  of  the  twenty-ninth,  with  desperate  vigor. 
Longstreet  could  be  seen  standing  amid  the  glare  of 
his  signal  torches  on  Lookout  Mountain,  directing  the 
Confederate  movements.  But  fortunately,  we  had 
got  the  Confederate  signal  code  some  weeks  before, 
and  his  orders  where  to  attack  were  all  read,  and 
showed  the  Union  troops  where  to  mass  for  resist 
ance.  The  result  was  that  the  men  of  Hooker  and 
Thomas  jointly  held  Lookout  Valley.  The  vantage 
point  Grant  desired  was  gained. 

Just  afterward,  Bragg,  or  Davis,  or  whoever  was 
responsible,  made  the  mistake  of  his  life  by  detaching 
Longstreet  to  attack  Burnside  at  Knoxville,  thinking 
to  draw  away  Grant  from  the  relief  at  Chattanooga. 
It  was  the  same  tactics  as  when  Lee  detached  Ewell 
to  move  on  Washington,  when  Grant  was  at  Peters- 
burgh  to  shake  him  off,  and  as  signally  failed.  For 
when  Grant  had  once  taken  hold,  he  always  held  on 
with  the  tenacity  of  a  bull-dog. 

Meanwhile,  time  moved  on  past  the  middle  of  No 
vember.  Sherman,  after  overcoming  many  obstacles, 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  17 

was  at  last  upon  the  ground  with  his  sixteen  thousand 
men.     All  things  were  ready  for  the  grand  attack. 

And  now,  let  us  follow  the  events  of  the  three 
great  days  of  battle,  which  I  narrate  in  order.  The 
work  of  the  first  day  is  the  clearing  of  the  plain  in  front 
of  Thomas  to  the  foot  of  the  Ridge.  That  of  the  sec 
ond  is  the  joint  attack  of  Sherman  on  the  northern  end 
of  the  Ridge  and  of  Hooker  on  Lookout  Mountain ;  and 
Hooker's  capture  of  Lookout  Mountain.  The  third  is 
the  combined  assault  of  Sherman  at  Tunnel  Hill,  of 
Hooker  at  the  southern  end  of  the  Ridge,  and  of  Thom 
as  in  the  center.  It  was  all  accomplished  in  accord 
with  the  plan  I  have  outlined;  a  plan  of  course  kept 
concealed  from  the  army  in  general,  and  from  the  Con 
federates. 


CHAPTER   II. 
Getting  Into  Action. 

The  clearing  of  the  enemy  from  Thomas'  front  to 
the  foot  of  Missionary  Ridge,  was  assigned  in  the 
mind  of  Grant  as  the  work  of  the  twenty-third.  I  have 
told  you  the  Confederate's  fortifications  ran  out  of  this 
side  of  the  Ridge  into  the  open  plain,  and  embraced 
Orchard  Knob,  a  hill  about  one  hundred  feet  high, 
three-fourths  of  a  mile  from  the  city.  Grant  ordered 
that  in  the  afternoon,  Thomas'  army  of  the  Cumber 
land  should  move  out  into  the  open  space  between  our 
front  and  the  enemy's  as  if  for  dress  parade.  The 
troops  were  to  put  on  their  best  uniforms,  to  produce 
that  impression.  At  half-past  twelve,  the  divisions  of 
Wood  and  Sheridan  marched  outside  their  intrench- 
ments.  Bragg,  looking  down  from  Missionary  Ridge, 
seeing  that  Hooker  had  come,  said:  "Now  we  shall 
have  a  Potomac  review."  The  sight  was  an  inspiring 
one.  Thirty  thousand  men  moved  in  line,  and  marched 
and  countermarched  in  front  of  the  Confederate  works. 
Bands  played,  bayonets  glittered  and  glanced  in  the 
sunlight  like  showers  of  electric  sparks.  Drums  rolled. 
Howard,  fresh  from  the  East,  cried:  "Why  this  is 
magnificent.  Is  this  the  way  your  western  troops  go 
into  action?  They  could  not  go  on  to  dress  parade 
better!"  The  interested  Confederates  thought  it  was 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  19 

a  dress  parade.  Their  sociable  pickets  leaned  on  their 
muskets,  and  the  Confederate  gunners  climbed  over 
their  works  to  see  the  spectacle.  Groups  of  officers  on 
Missionary  Ridge  looked  down  as  upon  a  pageant. 
At  half-past  one,  all  our  troops  were  in  column  march 
ing  parallel  with  the  Confederate  works,  with  company 
front  and  company  intervals,  and  company  fifers  and 
drummers  between.  Suddenly  the  bugle  for  action 
rang  out  from  Fort  Wood.  Then  came  the  sharp  or 
ders  :  "Musicians  to  rear !  Company,  by  right  into  line, 
quick  time,  march !"  then,  next,  "Charge,  Bayonets ! 
Forward,  Guide  Right,  Double  Quick,  March !"  Then 
the  whole  long  front  rushed  forward.  Almost  before  the 
Confederates  could  awake  from  their  astonishment,  it 
was  over  their  low  works.  The  men  in  blue  close  in 
on  Orchard  Knob ;  they  swarm  up  its  slopes ;  drive  out 
its  garrison,  and  turn  its  batteries  upon  the  fleeing 
foe.  The  day's  work  has  been  done.  Thomas'  front 
has  been  swept  clean  to  the  Ridge  by  the  broom  of 
fire  and  steel. 


CHAPTER   III. 
The  Battle  of  the  Twenty-Fourth. 

We  next  come  to  the  events  of  the  twenty-fourth. 
This  is  the  day  for  Hooker's  assault  on  Lookout  Moun 
tain  and  Sherman's  attack  on  the  northern  end  of 
Missionary  Ridge.  All  night  long,  Sherman's  men  are 
moving  up  from  Bridgeport,  back  of  Walden's  Ridge, 
screened  by  it  from  the  enemy's  observation.  Grant 
has  swept  all  that  northern  side  of  the  river  clean  of 
its  inhabitants  with  his  cavalry,  so  that  no  one  should 
give  intelligence  to  the  foe  of  what  is  going  on.  By 
daylight  the  Army  of  the  Tennessee  has  reached  a 
point  just  opposite  Tunnel  Hill,  behind  Walden's 
Ridge.  At  eight  o'clock,  Sherman  is  marching  over 
Walden's  Ridge,  attracting  the  entire  attention  of  the 
enemy,  from  Lookout  to  Tunnel  Hill.  Soon  he  is  lay 
ing  his  pontoons,  and  crossing  the  river,  shielded  by 
the  fire  of  fifty-six  guns.  Let  us  now  leave  him,  and 
turn  our  attention  to  the  other  end  of  the  line. 

In  the  camps  of  Hooker  all  is  activity  at  day 
light.  A  deep  fog  lies  in  Lookout  Valley,  and  on  the 
sides  of  Lookout  Mountain  clear  up  to  its  palisaded 
crest,  hiding  all  below  from  the  view  of  the  enemy  at 
the  summit.  Ten  thousand  of  Hooker's  men  in  col 
umn  cross  at  Wauhatchie,  and  under  cover  of  the  fog 
undiscovered  by  the  enemy,  march  in  silence  up  the 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  21 

western  slope  of  Lookout,  forming  a  line  of  battle  from 
its  base  to  the  palisades  at  its  top.  Then  they  begin  to 
sweep  along  its  side,  on  the  way  to  take  the  Confed 
erate  works  upon  its  northern  end,  and  on  the  eastern 
side  facing  Chattanooga,  in  flank.  All  the  time  the 
Confederates  on  the  north,  and  east,  and  top,  are 
watching  Sherman.  They  congratulate  themselves 
there  will  be  no  fighting  for  them  that  day.  Confeder 
ates  that  were  on  Lookout  told  me  they  were  utterly 
surprised  by  Hooker's  movement,  thinking  Sherman 
was  to  deliver  the  only  blow.  And  Sherman's  army 
and  Thomas'  men  are  of  the  same  opinion,  knowing 
nothing  of  the  attack  by  Hooker  that  was  intended 
from  Lookout  Valley.  Suddenly,  the  Southern  troops 
on  Lookout,  are  startled  by  a  crash  of  musketry  in 
their  rear.  It  is  Hooker's  line,  rushing  forward,  driv 
ing  in  their  pickets.  Instantly  they  knew  they  were  to 
have  part  in  the  mighty  struggle,  and  awoke  to  action. 
They  file  out  of  their  intrenchments  endwise,  and  hur 
ry  around  the  mountain  to  beat  Hooker  back.  And 
now  old  Lookout  turns  loose  all  its  dogs  of  war.  We 
can  hear  the  deep  baying  of  the  cannon — boom ! — 
boom  ! — boom  ! — and  the  sharp,  sustained  bark  of  the 
musketry,  crack-crack-crack ! ! !  But  steadily,  the 
army  of  the  Potomac  pushes  on.  Far  down  upon  the 
northern  shoulder  of  the  mountain,  and  on  its  eastern 
side,  stand  Confederate  bastions  and  breastworks, 
built  to  command  the  railroad,  and  shell  the  wagon 
road  from  Stevenson.  They  are  standing  there  yet. 
The  Union  troops  of  Osterhaus  attack  these  in  front 


22  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

and  threaten  to  assault,  to  sheild  Hooker's  march  upon 
their  flank.  Our  batteries  on  Moccasin  Point,  three 
thousand  feet  across  the  Tennessee,  open  against  the 
Confederate  batteries  on  Lookout.  You  can  see  yet 
where  their  shells  struck  the  palisades  that  day. 
Meanwhile,  on,  over  stones,  around  rocks,  up  right 
under  the  guns  of  the  crest  trained  at  their  lowest  ele 
vation,  surging  forward  in  a  line  from  the  palisades 
to  the  base,  come  the  men  of  Hooker,  driving  every 
thing  before  them.  Praises  be  to  Heaven  for  the  bless 
ed  fog!  The  great  God,  who  hung  Sinai  with  clouds 
while  his  dread  law  went  forth  with  lightnings  and 
thunders,  hung  Lookout  with  mist  and  clouds  that 
day,  while  He  "wrote  the  fiery  gospel"  of  salvation  for 
the  Union  across  its  bosom  "in  burnished  rows  of 
steel."  A  captured  Confederate  Colonel  declared  that 
if  it  had  not  been  for  that  mist,  their  sharpshooters 
would  have  slaughtered  us  like  pigeons,  and  we  would 
have  been  left  without  a  leader.  But  as  God  shielded 
Israel  from  the  Egyptians  by  a  cloud,  so  he  let  down 
a  seamless  mantle  of  vapor  that  protected  our  ad 
vance. 

By  noon,  the  soldiers  of  Hooker  have  reached  the 
northern  end  of  the  mountain,  and  are  rounding  it. 
There  they  were  to  stop.  But  the  battle  is  going  so 
well  that  they  drive  ahead.  As  they  turn  the  shoulder 
of  Lookout,  the  whole  mighty  panorama  of  Chatta 
nooga,  and  its  surrounding  mountains  and  armies, 
burst  upon  them,  seen  dimly  through  the  eddying 
vapors,  boiling  up  from  the  valley,  like  the  steam  from 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  23 

a  mighty  cauldron.  They  caught  their  first  glimpse  of 
the  men  of  Thomas  below,  and  of  Sherman's  advance, 
and  the  twelve  miles  of  the  mountain  lines  of  the  Con 
federates.  And  they  in  the  plain  first  saw  their  broth 
ers  and  helpers  on  the  mountain.  As  I  said  awhile 
ago,  the  troops  of  Sherman  and  Thomas  had  not  known 
that  Hooker  was  also  to  attack.  All  forenoon  they 
could  hear  the  sounds  of  conflict  drifting  down  the 
Lookout  Valley,  and  now  more  clearly  as  they  rolled 
around  the  northern  end  of  Lookout.  Anxiety  grew. 
A  great  battle  was  fighting,  and  they  could  not  see  it. 
It  was  like  hearing  voices  from  behind  the  curtains 
of  the  unseen  world.  Further  along  on  the  eastern  side 
of  Lookout  the  noise  of  conflict  moved.  Two  o'clock 
came.  Then  a  rift  was  made  by  the  wind  in  the  eddying 
volumes  of  fog  and  smoke.  As  the  veil  of  the  Temple 
was  rent  when  Christ  on  the  cross  cried,  "it  is  finished," 
and  His  spirit  passed  into  the  unseen  Holy  of  Holies, 
so  the  curtain  was  parted  on  the  mountains,  and  the 
soldiers  on  the  plain  saw  a  flag  going  through.  '"'What 
flag  is  that?"  they  cried ;  It  was  the  flag  of  the  Union, 
blazing  like  a  meteor  on  Lookout's  bosom,  in  front  of 
Hooker's  heroes,  and  the  enemy  were  fleeing  before 
it.  And  now,  Cheer,  Army  of  the  Cumberland!  and 
the  cheers  of  the  thirty  thousand  men  arose  and  smote 
against  the  face  of  the  mountain.  And  the  answering 
roar  of  Hooker's  ten  thousand  sounded  back  like  the 
shouting  of  the  host  of  Gideon  along  the  hills  of  Abie- 
zer  in  Old  Israel's  day,  and  reached  the  men  in  the 
valley  below. 


24  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

Then  the  fog  settles  down  again,  hiding  all  from 
their  view,  and  the  battle  goes  on.  The  ammunition  of 
Hooker's  men  gives  out.  Are  they  to  be  driven  back 
now  for  lack  of  it?  For  three  hours  they  hold  their  po 
sition  with  cold  steel  and  wait.  At  five  o'clock,  Carlin's 
troops  come  on  the  run  from  the  valley  below,  with 
cartridge  boxes  filled,  and  one  hundred  and  twenty 
thousand  rounds  strapped  upon  their  backs.  They  file 
in  front  of  their  comrades,  who  take  the  cartridges  from 
their  shoulders,and  Carlin  now  leads  the  advance.  The 
plateau  half  way  along  the  side  of  the  mountain  where 
stands  "The  White  House,"  and  where  the  heaviest 
Confederate  works  are,  is  speedily  cleared.  The  Con 
federate  road  down  the  face  of  Lookout  toward  Mis 
sionary  Ridge  is  threatened.  Night  comes  on,  and  the 
advance  rests.  That  night  the  enemy  on  the  sum 
mit,  seeing  that  the  road  would  be  taken  the 
next  morning  and  their  retreat  cut  off,  take  time 
by  the  forelock  and  quietly  file  down,  and  cross 
Chattanooga  Valley  to  Missionary  Ridge.  Next 
morning,  the  Mountaineers  of  the  Union  Eighth 
Kentucky,  hand  over  hand,  clamber  up  the  pali 
sades,  and  take  possession  of  the  summit.  There  they 
stand,  and  just  at  sunrise,  from  the  crest  of  Lookout 
unfurl  the  flag,  and  wave  "Old  Glory"  in  the  face  of 
Alabama,  and  Tennessee,  and  Georgia,  and  North  and 
South  Carolina.  The  great  host  below  see  it  floating 
aloft  there,  as  the  sun's  first  rays  strike  its  folds,  and 
mighty  cheers  ring  round  the  semi-circle  of  the  three 
union  armies.  "The  sight  of  it  did  my  soul  good,"  said 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  25 

General  Meigs.  "What  is  it?"  a  war  correspondent 
writes  of  a  wounded  Union  soldier,  "What  is  it?  Our 
flag?  Did  I  help  put  it  there?"  murmered  the  poor 
maimed  fellow,  and  died. 

The  ridiculous  treads  ever  close  upon  the  sublime. 
Down  low  upon  the  mountain's  northern  end  stood  a 
cabin,  occupied  that  day  by  a  middle-aged  woman,  of 
that  particularly  long,  lank,  and  snuff-seasoned  de 
scription  with  which  all  travelers  in  that  region  are 
familiar.  In  the  yard  was  a  yearling  calf,  tethered  to 
the  fence  by  a  rope  around  its  neck.  As  the  battle 
closed  around,  the  calf  pricked  up  its  ears  and  tail  in 
absurd  astonishment,  which  quickly  grew  to  terror. 
As  shells  began  to  burst  above,  it  gave  vent  to  its  ag 
ony  in  loud  bleats.  Then  that  woman,  clad  to  all  ap 
pearances  only  in  a  long  fluttering,  flapping  calico 
dress  rushed  out  to  the  rescue.  Right  under  the 
crossed  and  screaming  shot  from  Moccasin  Point  and 
Lookout  Mountain,  she  seized  the  rope,  and  tried  to 
drag  the  calf  out  of  danger.  With  the  stupidity  of  its 
kind,  it  braced  itself,  drew  back,  and  refused  to  be 
moved.  The  case  admitted  of  no  delay.  Quickly  she 
dropped  the  rope,  sprang  and  caught  the  creature  by 
the  tail,  "yanked"  it  around,  and  amid  the  cheers  and 
laughter  of  the  soldiers,  drew  it  backward,  through  the 
door,  and  into  the  house,  where  she  tied  its  feet  togeth 
er  and  thrust  it  under  the  bed.  Tell  me  not  of  Joan  of 
Arc,  of  the  Maid  of  Saragossa  !  Don't  talk  to  me  about 
Molly  Pitcher  at  Monmouth,  or  Nancy  Hart  in  the 
Revolution !  I  point  to  as  brilliant  an  example  of  fe- 


26  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

male  heroism  in  that  lean  mountain  woman's  rescue 
of  her  calf  from  the  devouring  fires  of  battle.  And  her 
strategy  in  taking  the  stubborn  quadruped  in  the  rear, 
when  the  front  attack  had  failed,  was,  in  its  way,  equal 
to  Grant's  rear  movement  on  Lookout  Mountain. 

And  now  let  us  briefly  return  to  Sherman.  Hav 
ing  crossed  the  Tennessee  to  the  northern  end  of  the 
Ridge,  by  ten  o'clock  his  guns  are  pounding  away  like 
the  beats  of  a  great  heart.  It  is  the  iron  heart  of  the 
Army  of  the  Tennessee.  Already  the  men  are  begin 
ning  to  kneel  in  worship  upon  that  rocky  altar  of  death, 
from  which  they  shall  not  rise  again.  Straight  on  he 
moves  toward  Tunnel  Hill.  The  day  is  a  succession 
of  desperate  assaults  and  captures,  and  counter  as 
saults.  There  is  not  much  room  for  strategy,  but  what 
there  may  be  is  used.  Loomis  deploys  along  this 
western  side  of  the  Ridge,  to  take  the  enemy  on  this 
flank.  Smith  on  the  eastern,  to  attack  on  the  other. 
Corse  is  at  the  northern  end,  to  make  the  direct  assault. 
Sherman's  army  comes  on  like  a  giant;  one  arm  to 
smite  the  foe  on  the  right;  the  other,  to  smash  in  the 
left;  the  body  to  crowd  forward  in  front.  Cross-fire 
from  both  sides,  direct  fire  in  his  face!  Sherman's 
cannon  pound  on,  great  hammer  strokes  upon  the  clock 
of  war.  There  is  not  such  dramatic  success  here  as  on 
our  right  with  Hooker.  The  Confederates  fight  directly 
under  the  eye  of  Bragg;  are  better  led;  and  better 
troops;  and  are  not  taken  at  a  disadvantage.  But  by 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  27 

three  o'clock,  Sherman  has  affected  a  lodgment  at  the 
end  of  the  Ridge,  and  he  fortifies  and  stubbornly  holds 
his  position. 

So  ends  the  twenty-fourth.  As  the  sun  went 
down,  the  clouds  blew  off  the  mountains,  the  mists 
rolled  out  of  the  valleys,  and  the  night  came  on  clear, 
with  the  stars  in  the  sky.  It  was  a  great  night  for  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland.  For  nine  weeks  they  had 
been  buried  in  their  trenches,  save  the  clearing  of  the 
ground  in  their  front  the  day  before.  Now,  they  look 
ed  up  and  saw  a  sight  to  gladden  their  hearts  and  thrill 
their  souls.  Away  off  to  the  right,  and  reaching  sky 
ward,  Lookout  Mountain  was  ablaze  with  the  signs 
of  Hooker's  men.  The  camp  fires  of  the  Union  and 
Confederate  lines,  still  facing  each  other,  looked  like 
streams  of  burning  lava  from  top  to  bottom.  Between 
the  flashes  from  the  muskets  of  the  skirmishers  glowed 
like  great  fireflies,  and  the  lanterns  of  those  that  gath 
ered  the  wounded  and  buried  the  dead  shone  with  the 
faint  spark  of  glow  worms.  Off  to  the  left,  and  far 
above  the  Valley,  the  northern  end  of  Missionary  Ridge 
was  aflame  with  the  lights  of  Sherman's  army.  The 
great  iron  crescent  that  had  with  threatening  aspect 
long  hung  over  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  and  Chat 
tanooga  was  beginning  to  vanish.  The  only  thing  that 
dampened  their  enthusiasm  was  that  the  foe  was  being 
destroyed  on  both  flanks  by  other  armies  from  a  dis 
tance,  while  they  in  the  center  seemed  destined  to  sit 
still  and  do  nothing. 


CHAPTER   IV. 
The  Storming  of  Missionary  Ridge. 

The  twenty-fifth  of  November  dawned  bright  and 
clear,  as  the  lines  of  the  Blue  and  the  Gray  still  faced 
each  other;  the  crowning  day  in  this  struggle  of  the 
giants.  There,  looming  in  the  vapors  of  the  early 
morning,  still  defiantly  stood  Missionary  Ridge  untak- 
en,  crowded  from  Chattanooga  Valley  to  Tunnel  Hill 
with  its  unconquered  Confederate  hordes.  All  night 
they  had  been  marching,  countermarching,  and  cor 
recting  their  positions  on  its  winding  summit.  The 
troops  from  Lookout  had  been  seen  crossing  and 
marching,  for  the  most  part  to  face  Sherman.  The 
semi-circular  Federal  front  of  the  men  of  Thomas  was 
pushed  well  out  toward  the  base  of  the  Ridge,  and  now 
included  Orchard  Knob.  Early  in  the  day  Sherman 
and  Hooker  were  assailing  both  ends  of  the  Confeder 
ate  line.  All  forenoon  both  flanks  of  the  Ridge  thun 
dered  and  smoked  like  the  furnaces  of  Tartarus.  Sher 
man  could  not  make  much  advance;  the  pressure  was 
heaviest  against  him,  and  his  force  was  lightest ;  often 
his  men  were  fairly  blown  back  by  the  fiery  gust  of  the 
Confederate  guns,  but  he  held  the  enemy  on  his  front 
with  a  grip  like  the  vise  of  Vulcan.  Hooker  came  on 
from  his  end  of  the  Ridge  with  a  formation  like  that  of 
Sherman;  flanking  column  to  the  front  of  the  hill, 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  29 

another  along  its  back,  the  main  body  assailing  it 
from  the  end.  He  did  work  that  day  that  would  have 
immortalized  the  Old  Guard  of  Napoleon.  Thus  the 
struggle  wore  along,  until  far  in  the  afternoon.  It  was 
past  three  o'clock.  Then  there  came  a  lull.  Sherman 
stopped  on  our  left ;  Hooker  had  not  got  far  in  on  the 
right.  The  day  was  dying,  and  Bragg  still  held  the 
Ridge.  The  time  had  come  for  the  final  bolt  to  be 
launched.  The  sun'  was  only  a  handbreadth  above 
Lookout  Mountain.  Oh  for  a  Joshua's  power  to  stay 
his  descent! 

There  on  Orchard  Knob  stood  Grant,  Thomas, 
Granger,  and  their  staffs.  Directly  above  them  on  the 
Ridge  at  the  Confederate  headquarters,  were  Bragg, 
Hardee  and  Breckenridge,  with  their  aids.  Orders  had 
been  sent  to  the  men  of  Thomas  to  move  out  at  a  given 
signal,  and  capture  the  rifle  pits  at  the  foot  of  the 
Ridge. 

The  idea  was  to  relieve  the  pressure  upon  Sher 
man.  The  signal  was  to  be  six  guns,  with  intervals  of 
two  seconds  between.  It  was  now  twenty  minutes  of 
four  o'clock.  Granger  stands  by  Bridger's  battery  on 
Orchard  Knob.  At  Grant's  order,  he  gives  the  sign 
for  starting:  "Number  I,  Fire!  Number  2,  Fire!  Num 
ber  3,  Fire !"  and  so  on  to  "Number  6."  At  Number  6, 
with  a  cheer  that  shook  the  earth,  like  thousands  of 
boys  let  loose  from  school,  the  Army  of  the  Cumber 
land  sprang  forth.  Their  nine  weeks  in  the  trenches 
had  not  rusted  them  out.  They  go  forward  in  line  of 
battle  of  brigades^  with  reserves  in  mass.  It  is  a  mile 


30  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

and  a  half  to  the  foot  of  the  Ridge,  every  inch  of  it 
played  on  by  the  enemy's  cannon.  Then  comes  the 
first  row  of  Confederate  rifle  pits,  which  they  are  to 
take.  And  now  the  big  guns  at  Fort  Wood,  and  all  the 
federal  forts  around  Chattanooga  open  at  the  Ridge 
over  the  heads  of  the  men,  and  the  light  artillery  in  the 
valley  takes  up  the  chorus.  The  Confederates  answer 
back  with  all  their  lines  from  bottom  to  top  of  the 
Ridge.  The  summit  roars  and  smokes  like  a  volcano, 
sowing  the  ground  with  iron,  and  garnishing  it  with 
the  wounded  and  dead.  But  onward  steadily  sweep  the 
Union  lines.  At  last,  a  final  cheer  and  charge,  and 
over  the  Confederate  works  at  the  bottom  of  the  Ridge 
they  go;  and  they  are  ours  and  fairly  won.  And  now 
comes  the  unexpected.  As  the  men  s.top  there  to  take 
breath,  they  begin  to  say  to  each  other,  "This 
is  a  good  day  to  finish  up  Chicamauga ;  let  us  go  to  the 
top !"  Not  an  officer  gave  orders.  The  men  that  car 
ried  the  muskets  started.  The  officers  followed,  then 
led.  Oh,  what  a  task  they  have  set  themselves !  It  is 
three  hundred  feet  up  the  steep  hill  to  the  second  line 
of  Confederate  works,  every  foot  under  fire.  When 
that  second  line  is  taken,  then  comes  three  hundred 
feet  more  of  the  same  sort.  Then  the  summit,  with  its 
fifty  pieces  of  artillery,  and  eight  thousand  infantry. 
It  was  the  strongest  fortress  that  could  be  devised  by 
the  art  of  man.  The  whole  Union  line  is  by  this  time 
upon  the  move.  Grant  turns  to  Thomas  angrily: 
"Thomas,  who  ordered  those  men  up  the  Ridge?" 
Thomas  replied  in  his  slow,  quiet  way:  "I  do  not 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  31 

know,  I  did  not."  Then  Grant  says  to  Granger :  "Did 
you  order  them  up,  Granger?"  "No,"  said  Granger, 
"they  started  without  orders;  when  those  fellows  get 
started,  all  Hell  can't  stop  them."  Grant  remarked: 
"If  it  does  not  turn  out  well,  somebody  will  suffer  for 
this."  Still  on  they  go.  Sheridan  out  there  on  the  line  is 
responsible  for  this  thing.  The  orders  sent  out  from 
Orchard  Knob  were  :  "take  the  works  at  the  foot  of  the 
Ridge."  He  has  given  it  to  his  men :  "Take  what  is 
before  you."  When  he  sees  the  men  going  up,  the 
rogue  begins  to  hedge.  He  sends  back  to  Grant  to 
know  "whether  he  meant  the  works  at  the  bottom  or 
the  top?"  Meanwhile  the  men  climb  on.  Orders  now 
come  from  Granger  to  go  ahead,  crowd  up  all  the 
forces,  and  take  the  Ridge  if  they  can.  This  is  what 
Sheridan  wants.  He  waves  his  hand  and  in  mischief 
salutes  Bragg  and  his  staff  upon  the  Ridge.  Then  two 
cannon — the  "Lady  Buckner"  and  the  "Lady  Brecken- 
ridge." — that  stand  by  headquarters  on  the  summit, 
cut  loose  at  him,  covering  him  and  his  staff  with  earth. 
"That's  ungenerous,"  he  cries ;  "I'll  take  those  guns  for 
that,  here's  at  you,"  and  rides  like  a  fox  hunter  at  the 
hill. 

Pandemonium  seems  broken  loose.  The  struggle 
is  now  for  the  second  line  of  works.  Bragg  launches 
his  troops  down  from  the  top.  He  is  rushing  help  to 
the  center  from  the  right  and  left.  The  Confederates 
can  be  seen  coming  on  the  run  from  up  and  down  the 
Ridge;  all  that  can  be  spared  from  the  ends.  But 
steadily  onward,  no  longer  in  line,  but  in  groups,  by 


32  Grant' s  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

companies,  or  singly,  now  rushing-  forward,  now  halt 
ing,  now  gathering  and  climbing  on,  go  the  men  of 
Thomas.  At  last,  here,  there,  foot  by  foot,  fighting 
desperately  in  many  places  with  fixed  bayonets  and 
clubbed  muskets,  they  get  over  the  rifle  pits,  and  the 
second  line  is  won.  Their  mighty  cheer  sweeps  up  the 
hillside,  and  the  "rebel  yell"  derisively  comes  back. 
The  Confederates  do  not  believe  a  single  blue-coat  will 
ever  reach  the  top  and  live. 

And  now  the  contest  redoubles.  The  men  in  blue 
start  again.  The  Confederates  have  a  perfect  sweep 
for  their  fire  in  front ;  none  of  their  own  troops  are  now 
in  the  way.  The  five  batteries  straight  ahead  on  the 
crest  sweep  every  inch  below  them  with  grape  and  can- 
nister  and  shot  and  shell.  The  side  batteries  wheel  and 
converge  their  fire,  in  great  X's.  The  echoes  roll  back 
from  Walden's  Ridge  and  Lookout,  as  if  all  the  thun 
ders  of  the  year  had  tumbled  from  the  clouds  into  the 
valley.  Still  up  go  the  men.  Fifty-eight  guns  a  min 
ute  are  now  playing  on  them,  and  eight  thousand  mus 
kets.  They  climb  forward  in  great  V's,  with  the  points 
toward  the  enemy.  At  the  point  of  each  V  flutters  the 
regimental  flag, — fourteen  of  them,  or  more, — the  flags 
that  waved  at  Shiloh,  and  Stone  River  and  Chica- 
mauga.  Sometimes  one  flutters  and  reels  like  a  hit  bird 
in  air ;  a  dead  Color  Sergeant  is  there  !  But  they  never 
stop,  for  other  hands  seize  and  bear  them  on.  They  are 
getting  near  the  crest.  The  enemy's  desperation  in 
creases.  They  lean  over  the  works  and  yell  at  the 
advancing  line,  with  a  scream  like  that  of  caged  hyen- 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  33 

as, — taunting,  "Chicamauga !  Chicamauga!"  They 
work  their  guns  with  frantic  energy,  until  the  cannon 
fairly  leap  from  the  quivering  earth.  They  gather 
handfuls  of  cartridges,  and  thrust  them  into  the  can 
non.  They  light  the  fuses  of  shells  and  bowl  them  over 
by  hundreds.  When  they  cannot  train  their  guns  down 
low  enough,  they  pick  up  rocks  and  hurl  them  in  their 
rage.  It  is  a  hand  to  hand  conflict.  At  last,  upon  the 
crest  in  six  places  go  the  Union  flags.  No  one  knows 
which  was  the  first;  honor's  self  might  have  been  proud 
to  follow  the  last.  The  Confederates  break  and  stream 
back,  first  from  the  center,  and  then  from  both  the 
wings.  Bragg  is  riding  in  hot  haste,  not  to  Abraham's 
bosom  at  Washington,  but  into  the  bosom  of  his  be 
loved  Dixie.  He  said  he  would  give  the  Federals  five 
days  to  get  out  of  Chattanooga;  they  have  only  taken 
three,  and  they  are  going  out  over  Lookout  Mountain 
and  Missionary  Ridge,  with  him  leading  the  procession 
at  a  more  than  two-forty  gait. 

Meanwhile,  the  men  of  Thomas  are  coming  up, 
and  crowding  on  the  crest  by  thousands,  and  give 
themselves  up  to  wild  rejoicing.  They  have  done  it! 
In  sight  of  the  Army  of  the  Potomac !  In  sight  of  the 
Army  of  the  Tennessee!  Some  sit  down  upon  the 
ground  and  convulsively  cry.  Some  laugh,  and  hug 
each  other.  Some  wildly  dance  and  cheer.  In  the 
midst  of  it  all,  Grant  comes  upon  the  summit,  and  the 
uproar  of  gladness  around  him  swells  into  a  tempest. 
They  declare  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  that  day. 
"Soldiers,"  he  said,  "Soldiers,  you  ought  to  be  court- 


34  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

martialed,  every  one  of  you.  I  ordered  you  to  capture 
the  bottom,  and  you  have  taken  the  Ridge."  An  old 
loyal  Tennessean,  who  had  got  up  there  no  one  knows 
how,  was  wildly  rushing  about  among  the  men,  shak 
ing  hands  and  crying:  "I  knew  the  Yankees  would 
fight ;  I  knew  it,  I  knew  it !"  And  Sheridan  was  there, 
and  his  horse's  heels  were  kicking  up,  as  he  was  already 
vanishing  over  the  Ridge  in  pursuit  of  the  enemy. 

It  took  one  hour  to  go  from  bottom  to  top.  What 
drove  the  Confederates  out  of  that  apparently  impreg 
nable  position?  Bragg  said  in  his  report,  "No  satisfac 
tory  excuse  can  possibly  be  given  for  the  shameful  con 
duct  of  our  troops,  .  .  in  allowing  their  line  to  be 
penetrated.  The  position  was  one  which  ought  to  have 
been  held  by  a  line  of  skirmishers  against  any  assault 
ing  column.  The  enemy  who  reached  the  Ridge  did  so 
in  a  condition  of  exhaustion,  from  the  great  physical 
exertion  in  climbing,  which  rendered  them  powerless, 
and  the  slightest  effort  would  have  destroyed  them." 
Elsewhere,  however,  he  says  it  must  have  been  the 
moral  effect  of  seeing  such  masses  of  Federal  troops 
for  days  in  front  of  their  own  comparatively  unseen 
lines  that  caused  them  to  give  way.  And  curiously 
enough,  this  is  the  reason  the  Confederate  soldiers 
themselves  gave.  I  asked  one  of  them  "A Vhat  made 
you  fellows  run?"  He  answered:  "Wei  n  v  .t  was 
just  this  way.  We 'uns  could  see  all  of  yc  ' •  ns  i  vn 
thar,  about  thirty  thousand  of  you,  a  parac  »r'  1  ot- 
in'  an'  drummin'  an'  wavin'  your  flags  about  i  •  /eek. 
An  we  couldn't  see  our  own  men  up  here  among  the 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  35 

rocks  and  trees,  only  about  a  company  on  your  right 
and  another  on  the  left.  An'  when  you  'uns  started  up 
the  Ridge,  it  looked  to  us  like  as  if  the  Yearth  jest  riz 
up  an'  got  blue.  But  we  'uns  fit  and  fit  until  it  seemed 
as  if  God  himself  was  a  Yank ;  then  we  'uns  got  skeart 
an'  left."  But  I  say  they  left  also  because  they  had 
come  to  recognize  the  masterly  strategy  of  Grant,  in 
his  plan  of  attack,  on  right,  left  and  center,  and  felt 
that  it  was  useless  to. resist. 

And  that  strategy  was  backed  up  by  the  devotion 
of  an  army  which  sunk  every  personal  fear  of  death 
in  an  all  absorbing  determination  to  carry  it  out  and 
make  it  effective.  General  Howard  tells  how,  after 
the  last  charge,  four  men  carried  a  sergeant  to  the 
rear.  "Where  are  you  hurt?"  kindly  inquired  Mr.  A. 
P.  Smith,  a  member  of  the  Christian  Commission.  He 
answered:  "Almost  up,  sir."  "I  mean  in  what  part 
are  you  injured?"  He  fixed  his  eye  on  the  speaker, 
and  answered  again,  "Almost  up  to  the  top."  Just 
then  Mr.  Smith  uncovered  his  arm,  and  saw  the  fright 
ful,  shattering  wound  f  '  Jie  shell  which  struck  him. 
"Yes,"  said  the  Sergeant,  turning  his  eye  upon  it;  "I 
was  almost  up :  but  for  that  I  would  have  reached  the 
top."  The  sergeant  was  bearing  the  flag  when  he  was 
hit.  He  died  with  the  fainter  and  fainter  ex^1~mation, 
"almost  up,  almost  up !"  while  his  compa  on  the 

heights  he  almost  reached  were  cheering  :'  j  triumph 
he  would  so  much  have  enjoyed.  It  is  Porting  to 


36  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

hope  that  his  faithful  spirit  attained  the  crest  of  high 
er  battlements  than  those  which  the  living  victors  that 
day  reached. 

Those  three  days  of  battle  cost  us  nearly  six  thou 
sand  such  heroes  dead  or  wounded.  That  last  assault 
cut  down  one  man  in  every  four  who  started.  It  was 
such  self-forgetful  devotion  as  this,  joined  to  the 
matchless  skill  of  the  general  commanding,  that  gave 
us  the  victory.  I  know  of  no  battle  in  modern  times 
more  strategically  and  tactically  planned,  or  more  per 
fectly  delivered. 

Twice  have  I  carefully  gone  over  that  battlefield 
since  the  war.  The  last  time  was  in  the  early  fall  a 
few  years  since.  The  scene  was  Arcadian  in  its  peace 
ful  beauty.  The  clouds  chased  each  other  in  shadows 
along  the  sides  of  Walden's  Ridge;  the  grapes  hung 
purpling  on  the  ridges  enriched  by  the  blood  of  heroes. 

"Again  I  saw  the  mountain's  blaze 
In  autumn's  amber  light; 
Again  I  saw  in  shimmering  haze 
The  valleys  long  and  bright. 
Old  Lookout  Mountain  towered  afar 
As   when   in   lordly   pride, 
It  plumed  its  head  with  flags  of  war 
The  year  our  comrades  died. 

On  Wooded  Mission  Ridge  increased, 
The  fruited  fields  of  fall, 
And  Chattanooga  slept  in  peace 
Beneath  her  mountain  wall." 


Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga  37 

From  Lookout's  summit,  just  where  the  Union 
flag  was  first  planted  on  those  heights,  my  eyes  wan 
dered  along  the  encircling  mountain  ridges  for  a  hun 
dred  miles,  and  roamed  at  will  over  .states  once  sev 
ered,  but  now  dwelling  in  harmony. 

"O  Country,  free,  from  sea  to  sea, 
With  Union  blest  forever, 
Not  vainly  heroes  died  for  thee, 
Along  that  winding  river." 

Then  I  rode  across  to  the  National  Cemetery,  to 
look  upon  the  graves,  and  see  what  it  all  cost.  Thir 
teen  thousand  Union  soldiers  rest  there,  whose  feet, 
once  beautiful  within  the  halls  of  home,  marched  to 
the  call  of  duty,  and  halted  only  in  death.  The  coun 
try  they  saved,  tenderly  cares  for  those  graves.  And 
then  I  went  over  to  the  Confederate  Cemetery,  over 
grown  with  weeds  and  briars,  with  not  a  sign  of  a 
mound.  The  only  monument  that  stood  there  then 
was  put  up  by  the  charitable  subscriptions  of  North 
ern  residents  of  Chattanooga,  and  bears  the  inscrip 
tion,  "To  our  Confederate  Dead."  A  little  piece  away 
stood  the  smouldering  remains  of  the  pine  shaft  which 
the  Confederates,  in  their  poverty,  had  been  able  to 
erect.  It  seemed  a  symbol  of  the  decayed  fortunes 
of  the  government  for  which  they  lost  so  much.  The 
only  individual  mark  I  saw  in  all  that  burial  ground, 
where  many  thousands  lie,  was  a  little  marble  cross, 
uplifting  itself  pitifully  among  the  briars,  with  but 
these  sad  words:  "To  my  Darling:  Slain  at  Chica- 


38  Grant's  Strategy  at  Chattanooga 

mauga."  As  I  turned  and  went  out  through  the  barb 
ed  wires  of  the  cheap  fence,  I  saw  a  one-armed  man 
reading  under  a  tree.  He  was  an  ex-Confederate  from 
Alabama,  come  to  revisit  the  scene  where  he  had  been 
wounded.  We  sat  and  talked  amicably  over  the  war 
and  its  results.  Upon  my  expressing  regret  for  the 
neglected  condition  of  the  Confederate  Cemetery,  and 
contrasting  it  with  that  of  the  Federal,  he  mournfully 
remarked,  "Yes,  there's  a  mighty  difference  betv  n 
whippin'  an'  bein'  whipped."  Yes,  there  is.  And  n~xt 
to  the  bravery  of  our  soldiers,  and  the  blessing  of  God 
upon  a  just  cause,  nothing  contributed  more  to  make 
that  difference  in  our  favor,  than  the  Strategy  of  Gen 
eral  Grant. 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 
of  the  Civil  War. 


A  Memorial  Day  Recollection. 

There  are  many  things  of  interest,  statistical  and 
otherwise,  connected  with  both  the  Union  and  the  Con 
federate  armies  during  the  great  Civil  War,  which  are 
scarcely  known  to  the  present  generation.  Some  of 
them  are  here  presented  as  suitable  to  be  recalled 
on  Memorial  Day. 

One  is  that  of  the  almost  extreme  youth  of  the 
vast  majority  of  combatants  on  both  sides.  No  exact 
figure  :n  this  respect  for  the  Confederates  can  be 
fur  ishc  '  *-'tit  it  was  commonly  said  that  they  "had 
raJ  no  'ily  the  grave,  but  the  cradle,"  to  fill  their 
ran  TV  troops  which  fought  our  fleets  from  the 
Coni',>-j.t  forts  along  the  Gulf  and  around  New 
Orleans  v;ere  nearly  all  boys  of  from  14  to  18,  the 
home-guards  of  their  respective  cities. 

Our  government  began  to  enlist  boys  down  as 
low  as  eleven  years  of  age  as  powder-boys  on  men-of- 
war,  musicians,  orderlies  and  the  like.  There  were 
twenty  boys  eleven  years  of  age  in  our  army.  There 
were  one  hundred  twelve  years  old.  Of  those  aged 
thirteen  there  were  seven  hundred.  Of  those  14  years 
old  there  were  one  thousand  in  the  national  army;  of 


40          The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

fifteen  there  were  two  thousand  one  hundred;  of  six 
teen,  twelve  thousand  five  hundred;  -of  seventeen, 
twenty-three  thousand  eight  hundred.  Then  came  a 
vast  host  of  four  hundred  and  twelve  thousand  at 
eighteen.  The  figures  show  that  of  the  boys  of 
eighteen  and  under  there  were  far  more  than  twice  as 
many  as  of  any  other  age  in  the  Union  army;  at 
eighteen  or  under  there  were  over  four  hundred  and 
fifty-two  thousand  enlistments,  while  of  the  next 
highest  number,  at  nineteen,  there  were  only  two 
hundred  and  twelve  thousand — not  one-half  as  many. 

The  figures  show  that  of  the  two  million  two  hun 
dred  thousand  more  than-one  half  were  of  young  fel 
lows  of  twenty-two  or  under — well  might  they,  I  say, 
be  called  "boys  in  blue."  There  is  a  deeper  signifi 
cance  than  people  think  when  the  veterans  call  each 
other  "the  boys"  still. 

It  was  largely  an  army  of  boys.  We  had  hun 
dreds  of  commissioned  officers  at  eighteen.  We  had 
some  colonels  not  yet  of  age,  and  young  generals  just 
over  twenty-one.  They  were  chosen  because  it  was 
found  by  the  test  of  the  battlefield  they  could  do  the 
work.  And  yet  the  battle  and  service  record  of  these 
boy  regiments  shows  that  they  fought  the  most  des 
perately  and  gave  the  most  and  best  service  of  any  in 
the  army. 

On  both  sides  were  as  heroic  soldiers  as  ever  met 
in  the  shock  of  battle.  Test  the  heroism  by  a  com 
parison  of  the  regimental  losses  in  modern  European 
battles  with  our  own.  The  world  has  rung  with  the 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies  41 

praise  of  the  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade  at  Ballac- 
lava,  when  six  hundred  and  seventy-three  British  cav 
alry  rode  against  the  Russian  batteries,  and  two  hun 
dred  and  forty-seven — or  thirty-six  and  seven-tenths 
per  cent,  were  killed  and  wounded — a  little  over 
one-third.  But  compare  that  with  the  mad  rush 
of  Major  Pat  Keenan's  Sixth  Pennsylvania  Cavalry 
at  Chancellorsville.  In  order  to  make  time  for  a 
battery  to  be  gotten  into  place,  they  were  ordered  to 
charge  Stonewall  Jackson's  entire  advancing  corps. 
They  rode,  and  shot,  and  sabred,  until  there  were  none 
left  to  ride,  and  shoot,  and  sabre  any  more;  and  the 
boom  of  the  battery  that  had  been  gotten  into  place  to 
save  our  army,  was  their  death-knell. 

Or  take  the  heaviest  regimental  loss  in  the  fiercest 
battle  of  the  Franco-Prussian  war — that  of  the  Third 
Westphalian  at  Mars  La  Tour — forty-nine  and  four- 
tents  per  cent  killed  and  mortally  wounded.  I  can 
count  sixty-four  Union  regiments  that  lost  upward  of 
fifty  per  cent  in  a  single  battle,  and  the  losses  ran  as 
high  as  eighty-two  per  cent.  And  fifty-one  Con 
federate  regiments  have  the  same  record.  There  is 
not  in  the  history  of  war  reliable  record  of  such 
regimental  losses  as  were  suffered  by  both  Union 
and  Confederate  regiments — not  penned  up  in  a  corner 
and  massacred  either,  as  Custer  and  his  men  were  at 
the  Big  Horn,  but  in  open,  stand-up  battle. 

Look  at  the  Twenty-sixth  Massachusetts  at  Cold 
Harbor.  When  they  were  ordered  to  charge  the  Con 
federate  works,  the  men  deliberately  sat  down  and 


42  The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

wrote  their  names  on  the  back  of  envelops  and  bits  of 
paper,  and  pinned  them  on  each  other's  backs,  so  that 
their  dead  bodies  might  be  identified.  The  officers 
turned  the  peaks  of  their  caps  to  the  rear  with  the 
ornament  and  marks  of  their  rank  on,  so  that  they 
might  have  a  chance  to  live  to  lead  the  men.  Then 
three  hundred  and  ten  all  told  started  on  the  charge 
against  the  enemy's  works,  inside  of  which  stood  the 
Confederate  lines,  solid,  five  deep,  all  the  rear  ranks 
loading  for  the  front  ranks,  and  cannon  to  the  right  and 
left  pouring  grape  and  canister.  Three  hundred  and 
ten  Union  soldiers  went  in.  When  they  came  out  there 
were  just  four  officers  and  sixty- two  men  left  to  an 
swer  roll  call, — sixty-six  out  of  three  hundred  and 
ten — one  out  of  five. 

Or  take  the  case  of  the  First  Minnesota  at  Gettys 
burg.  It  was  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day.  The 
Union  line  along  the  Emmittsburg  Pike  was  broken 
and  retreating.  Hancock  was  patching  up  a  second 
line.  Re-enforcements  for  him  were  coming  on  the 
dead  run.  But  yonder,  on  the  other  side,  Wilcox's 
whole  Confederate  brigade  was  coming  on  the  run 
too,  and  they  were  the  nearest.  Something  had  to  be 
done  to  check  them.  Hancock  turned  to  Col.  Colville, 
with  his  little  skeleton  First  Minnesota,  already 
thinned  by  its  battle  losses  to  a  shadow. 

"Colonel,  do  you  see  those  rebel  colors?  Take 
them!" 

Like  a  live  thunder-bolt,  the  two  hundred  and 
sixty-two  officers  and  men  of  the  First  Minnesota 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies          43 

drove  right  at  the  center  of  the  Confederate  brigade. 
Two  hundred  and  sixty-two  went  in.  Two  hundred 
and  twenty-four  were  killed  and  wounded.  Just 
thirty-eight  came  back;  but  they  had  the  Confederate 
colors !  The  second  line  was  ready,  and  the  second 
day  at  Gettysburg  was  won.  Hancock  said :  "There 
is  no  more  gallant  deed  in  history.  I  ordered  those 
men  in  there  because  I  saw  I  must  gain  five  minutes' 
time."  He  gained  it,  and  saved  the  day. 

And  the  brave  Confederate  regiments  were  foe- 
men  worthy  of  the  Union  steel.  Tried  by  the  test  of 
regimental  losses,  those  ragged,  gray  battalions  are 
the  bravest  men  that  ever  stood  on  the  round  earth  in 
the  shock  of  open  battle. 

The  Twenty-sixth  North  Carolina  went  in  * 
Gettysburg  with  over  eight  hundred  men  who  an 
swered  the  roll  call.  Five  hundred  and  eighty-eight 
men  were  killed  and  wounded ;  one  hundred  and  twenty 
were  missing — nearly  all  killed  and  wounded.  When 
the  battle  was  over,  just  eighty  men  of  over  eight 
hundred  were  left.  Captain  Tuttle  of  that  regiment 
went  into  action  with  two  other  officers  and  eighty- 
four  men.  All  the  officers  and  eighty-three  of  the  men 
were  killed  and  wounded.  One  solitary  man  of  the 
entire  company  was  left. 

Even  more  striking  was  the  record  of  the  Eleventh 
North  Carolina.  All  there  was  left  of  it  by  the  time  it  got 
to  Gettysburg  was  three  officers  and  thirty-eight  men, 
consolidated  to  about  one-half  a  company.  In  the 
first  two  days'  fighting  two  of  the  officers  and  thirty- 


44  The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

four  of  the  men  were  killed  and  wounded.  One  cap 
tain  and  three  men  were  left.  They  charged  with 
Picket  on  the  third  of  July — a  captain,  two  privates, 
and  the  color  bearer.  The  color  bearer  was  shot  dead ; 
the  captain  and  the  two  privates  came  back,  the  cap 
tain  carrying  the  colors.  Three  men  left  out  of  a 
regiment.  That  was  the  kind  of  soldiers  we  had  to 
fight.  Out  of  the  whole  military  population  of  South 
Carolina  over  twenty-three  per  cent  were  killed  or 
mortally  wounded  on  the  field  of  battle,  not  counting 
those  who  were  maimed  for  life  or  died  of  disease.  The 
Confederate  armies  lost  in  killed  and  mortally  wound 
ed  ten  per  cent  of  their  entire  enrollment.  The  Union 
armies  lost  five  per  cent,  because  hundreds  of  regiments 
never  made  a  battle  record,  their  service  being  given 
to  garrison  or  guard  duty. 

More  than  one  hundred  and  ten  thousand  Union 
soldiers  (one  hundred  ten  thousand  and  seventy)  were 
killed  or  mortally  wounded  on  the  field  of  battle.  Over 
seventy-four  thousand  Confederates  were  killed  or 
mortally  wounded. 

Tried  by  the  test  of  sacrifice  of  life,  bravery  in  the 
highest  degree  was  shown  by  many  who  were  non- 
combatants.  Eleven  chaplains  fell  in  action.  Many 
others,  like  Chaplain  Bennett  of  the  Thirty-second 
Ohio,  carried  muskets  and  fought  in  the  ranks  during 
the  battles,  earning  the  praise  of  the  commanding 
general.  And  many  another,  like  Chaplain  Moore  of 
my  own  regiment,  enlisted  as  soldier,  was  detailed  as 
chaplain,  and  died  of  disease  contracted  in  the  line  of 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies  45 

duty.  Forty  surgeons  were  killed  and  seventy-three 
wounded  while  at  their  work  on  the  battlefield.  Many 
musicians  fought,  like  the  band  of  the  Forty-eighth 
Ohio  at  Shiloh,  which  laid  aside  its  instruments,  pro 
cured  muskets  and  lost  two  of  its  members  slain. 

Two  thousand  six  ^hundred  and  eighty-fiye  bat 
tles  were  fought;  sixty-seven  thousand  and  fifty-eight 
men  were  killed  on  the  field  of  carnage;  forty-three 
thousand  and  thirty-two  died  of  wounds ;  two  hundred 
and  twenty-four  thousand  five  hundred  and  eighty- 
six  died  of  disease ;  twenty-nine  thousand  seven  hun 
dred  and  twenty-five  died  in  the  prisons  of  the  South, 
or  were  "missing"  and  never  heard  of  more,  saying 
nothing  of  a  half  million  of  men  who  were  made  crip 
ples  for  life,  nor  taking  into  account  the  untold  suffer 
ing  of  mothers,  wives,  sisters,  and  daughters  of  the 
men  who  endured  the  horrors  of  war  that  their  nation 
might  live.  It  is  safe  to  say  four  hundred  thousand 
Union  soldiers  lost  their  lives  during  the  great  Civil 
War. 

Here  is  an  illustration  of  the  power  of  song  in  the 
Civil  War.  It  was  the  evening  of  that  awful  day  at 
Spottsylvania,  which  is  written  in  eternal  letters  of 
fire  and  blood  upon  the  brain  of  every  veteran  of  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac.  Major-General  Rice  had  been 
killed.  Major-General  Sedgwick,  commander  of  the 
second  corps,  idol  of  the  whole  army,  had  fallen  dead 
from  the  bullet  of  a  Confederate  sharpshooter.  Gen 
eral  Hancock  had  made  a  tactical  mistake  in  the  battle 
which  everyone  had  recognized.  Eighteen  thousand 


46  The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

men  had  fallen.  The  day  was  practically  a  failure. 
Grant  said:  "We've  had  hard  fighting,  and  not  ac 
complished  much.  We've  lost  a  good  many  men  and 
the  country  will  blame  me."  It  was  a  gloomy  time. 
The  air  was  thick  with  the  low-hanging  clouds  of 
cannon  and  musket  smoke,  and  the  western  wind 
drifted  the  sulphurous  fumes  across  the  woods  to 
where  the  field-hospital  was  established.  On  the 
ground  lay  thousands  of  wounded,  men  with  ban 
daged  heads,  those  who  had  lost  an  arm  or  a  foot, 
others  with  ghastly  body  wounds  from  which  their 
brave  lives  were  flowing  out  with  every  heart-beat. 
An  army  correspondent  came  along.  The  boys  began 
to  question  him:  "How  is  the  battle  going?  Are 
they  driving  us?  Will  the  boys  hold  them?"  The 
correspondent  answered:  "We're  holding  the  lines; 
we  have  a  strong  position;  I  don't  believe  they  can 
drive  us."  It  was  a  word  of  cheer.  Away  out  on  the 
edge  of  the  crowd  a  soldier  who  had  lost  his  left  arm 
from  amputation,  and  was  still  sick  and  faint  from  the 
chloroform  and  the  shock,  slowly  staggered  to  his  feet, 
pulled  off  his  cap,  and  began  to  sing  that  old  army 
song: 

"We're  marching  to  the  field,  boys,  we're  marching 

to  the  fight, 

Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  freedom ; 
And  we  bear  the  glorious  stars  for  the  Union 

and  the  right, 
Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  freedom." 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies  47 

"While  we'll  rally  round  the  flag  boys, 

We'll  rally  once  again, 

Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  freedom." 

It  was  like  the  call  of  the  bugle  to  those  weak  and 
perishing  men  lying  there.  All  around  they  began  to 
lift  themselves — on  their  elbows  they  with  one  leg 
gone ;  on  to  their  feet  those  that  had  two,  all  swinging 
their  caps,  and  joining  in  the  chorus: 

"We'll  rally  round  the  flag,  boys, 

Yes,  rally  once  again, 

Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  freedom." 

The  song  drifted  across  the  field,  until  the  troops 
on  the  line  caught  it  up.  On  the  dim  edge  of  battle 
amid  the  evening  shadows,  down  in  the  thickets,  un 
der  the  overhanging  pines — with  throats  parched  with 
cannon  smoke  and  mouths  bitter  with  cartridge 
powder,  they  sang  it: 

"We'll  rally  round  the  flag,  boys, 

Yes,  rally  once  again, 

Shouting  the  battle  cry  of  freedom." 

Far  out  on  the  front  the  Confederates  heard  it. 
Strange  sound!  The  Yankees  singing  after  such  a 
day  as  that!  And  discouragement  came  upon  the 
Confederates  regarding  their  ability  to  conquer  such 
men  as  those.  Talking  the  matter  over  with  a  Con- 


48  The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

federate  not  long  after,  he  said :  "When  we'uns  heard 
you'uns  a  singin',  we'uns  felt  like  as  if  it  wa'n't  no  use 
to  fight  you'uns,  if  you'uns  could  sing  after  sech  a 
lickin'  as  we'uns  give  you'uns  that  day  at  Spottsyl- 
vania." 

Of  that  Union  army  three-fourths  were  American 
born,  notwithstanding  we  used  to  hear  in  those  times 
it  was  made  up  of  riff-raff  of  foreigners,  mercenaries 
and  hirelings;  forty-eight  per  cent  of  it  were  farmers. 
How  we  used  to  sing  in  those  heroic  days : 

"Along  the  Western  prairies,  where  the  glowing 
harvests  shine, 

We  may  see  the  sturdy  farmer  boys  fast  falling  into 
line; 

And  children  from  their  mothers'  knees  are  pulling  at 
the  weeds, 

And  learning  how  to  reap  and  sow  against  their  coun 
try's  needs." 

In  those  days,  in  many  places,  women  who  had 
never  done  such  work  before,  had  to  go  into  harvest- 
fields  to  gather  the  crops,  while  the  men  and  boys 
were  gone  to  the  war;  my  own  mother  with  my  little 
brothers  did.  Twenty-four  per  cent  of  that  army  were 
mechanics ;  sixteen  per  cent  were  laborers,  and  smaller 
numbers  from  other  occupations. 

As  for  names,  we  could  outclass  any  other  army 
ever  mustered  that  history  tells  of.  It  was  seriously 
proposed  at  one  time  to  form  regiments  of  Joneses  and 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies  49 

Smiths  and  Browns.  But  it  was  abandoned  because 
there  was  no  way  of  telling  them  apart. 

But  there  were  some  names  that  nobody  would 
get  mixed.  We  had  a  great  many  Indian  soldiers, 
among  them  three  regiments  from  Kansas.  Here  are 
the  names  of  some  of  the  captains :  Captain  Spring 
Frog,  Captain  Eli  Tadpole,  Captain  Dirt  Throw  Tiger, 
Captain  Daniel  Grasshopper. 

We  had  also:  Lieutenant  Juniper  Duck,  Lieu 
tenant  Redbird  Sixkiller,  and  Lieutenant  Andrew 
Rabbit. 

One  of  the  things  little  known  throughout  the 
North  is  the  great  revival  of  religion  which  swept 
throughout  the  Southern  armies  just  before  the  close 
of  the  war.  The  work  began  in  Stonewall  Jackson's 
corps.  In  coming  to  his  command,  Gen.  Jackson 
found  that  fully  half  his  regiments  were  destitute  of 
chaplains,  and  that  the  chaplains  already  on  the 
ground  were  largely  ineffective.  He  began  to  take 
immediate  steps  for  the  remedying  of  these  things  in 
the  interest  of  religion.  He  summoned  his  old  pastor, 
Rev.  Dr.  White,  in  counsel.  He  called  all  the  chap 
lains  of  his  command  together  and  exhorted  them  to 
religious  activity.  He  urged  the  regiments  without 
chaplains  to  secure  effective  ministers  as  soon  as 
possible.  He  appointed  the  Rev.  B.T.  Lacy,  in  whom 
he  had  great  confidence,  as  a  sort  of  director-general 
of  the  chaplains  and  stationed  him  at  the  corps  head 
quarters.  Rev.  Dr.  Palmer,  an  eminent  minister  com 
pelled  to  come  north  from  New  Orleans,  was  invited 


50  The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

to  hold  evangelistic  services  in  the  command.  By 
means  of  military  discipline  and  the  interest  excited 
by  his  own  religious  activity,  a  genuine  spiritual  in 
terest  began  to  spread  throughout  his  corps.  Great 
booths  of  logs  and  trees  were  made  by  the  soldiers 
which  would  accomodate  as  much  as  an  entire  brigade, 
and  at  regular  intervals  various  portions  of  the  army 
were  called  to  occupy  them.  A  huge  tabernacle  in  the 
open  field  was  prepared  near  Hamilton's  crossing  to 
which  Gen.  Jackson  removed  his  quarters  soon  after, 
and  there  services  for  his  entire  command  were  held. 

Prof.  R.  L.  Dabney,  his  son-in-law,  says  in  his 
Life  of  Gen.  Stonewall  Jackson: 

"Here  on  a  bright  Sabbath  in  the  spring,  might 
be  seen  the  stately  head  of  the  commander-in-chief 
with  a  crowd  of  generals  whose  names  have  been 
borne  by  fame  across  the  ocean,  of  legislators  and 
statesmen  who  had  come  out  from  Richmond,  bowed 
along  with  the  multitude  of  private  soldiers  in  divine 
worship,  while  the  solemn  and  tender  wave  of  sacred 
emotion  subdued  the  great  and  the  unknown  alike 
before  it.  At  these  scenes  which  were  so  directly  pro 
duced  by  his  instrumentality,  Gen.  Jackson  was  the 
most  unobtrusive  assistant.  Never  since  the  days 
when  Whitefield  preached  to  the  mingled  crowd  of 
peers  and  beggars  in  Moorfields  has  the  sky  looked 
down  upon  a  more  imposing  worship." 

Dabney  notes  that  Jackson  by  his  influence  se 
cured  that  none  but  orthodox  chaplains  should  be  ap 
pointed  in  the  Confederate  army.  "There  was  not  a 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies  51 

single  regiment  in  the  army  which  showed  a  disposi 
tion  to  introduce  a  minister  who  did  not  belong  to  an 
evangelical  and  orthodox  communion  of  their  chap 
lains  except  one  or  two  priests  of  the  Roman  church." 

As  a  result  of  all  this  preparation  and  preaching, 
a  great  revival  broke  out  in  Jackson's  corps.  Dabney 
thus  continues  : 

"The  effort  thus  begun  in  General  Jackson's  corps, 
was  imitated  in  the  others.  The  movement  was  not 
limited  to  the  army  of  Virginia;  but  was  also  propa 
gated  in  the  south  and  west.  Soon  the  General  As 
sembly  of  the  Presbyterian  Church,  and  the  other  ec 
clesiastical  authorities,  encouraged  by  the  advice 
which  the  friends  of  General  Jackson  were  permitted 
to  quote  from  him,  began  to  take  action  on  behalf  of 
the  army;  and  a  number  of  the  most  distinguished 
ministers  were  sent  to  the  different  corps  to  labor  with 
the  chaplains  as  itinerants,  and  to  communicate  the 
wants  of  the  army  to  the  churches.  The  speedy  fall 
of  the  originator  of  the  work  rather  gave  new  impetus 
to  it,  than  retarded  it ;  and  the  result  was,  that  general 
revival  of  religion  in  the  Confederate  armies,  which  has 
been  even  more  astonishing  to  the  world,  than  the 
herculean  exertions  of  the  Confederate  states.  A 
wide-spread  reform  of  morals  was  wrought,  which 
was  obvious  to  every  spectator,  in  the  repression  of 
profanity  and  drunkenness,  the  increase  of  order  and 
discipline,  and  the  good  conduct  of  the  troops  in  battle. 
It  was  just  those  commands  in  which  this  work  of  grace 
was  most  powerful,  that  became  the  most  trustworthy 


52          The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

in  the  post  of  danger.  The  brigade  of  Barksdale,  for 
instance,  which  had  held  its  ground  in  Fredericksburg 
with  almost  incredible  resolution  under  the  great 
bombardment,  was  equally  noted  for  its  religious  zeal. 
Returning  to  their  post  of  honor  in  the  city,  they  oc 
cupied  one  of  the  deserted  churches  as  their  chapel, 
and  maintained  a  constant  series  of  nightly  meetings, 
attended  by  numerous  conversions,  for  many  weeks. 
In  short,  the  conversions  in  the  various  Confederate 
armies  within  the  ensuing  year,  were  counted,  by  the 
most  sober  estimate,  at  twelve  thousand  men.  The 
strange  spectacle  was  now  presented,  of  a  people 
among  whom  the  active  religious  life  seemed  to  be 
transferred  from  the  churches  at  home — the  custo 
mary  seats  of  piety — to  the  army;  which,  among  other 
nations,  has  always  been  dreaded  as  the  school  of  vice 
and  infidelity.  Thus,  the  grief  and  fears  of  the  good, 
lest  this  gigantic  war  should  arrest  the  religious  train 
ing  of  the  whole  youth  of  the  land,  cut  off  the  supply  of 
young  preachers  for  its  pulpits,  and  rear  up  for  the 
country  a  generation  of  men  profane  and  un-Christian, 
were  happily  consoled;  they  accepted  this  new  marvel, 
of  an  army  made  the  home  and  source  of  the  religious 
life  of  a  nation,  with  grateful  joy,  as  another  evidence 
of  the  favor  of  God  to  the  afflicted  people." 

To  him  who  believes  in  a  supreme  providence  over 
the  affairs  of  men,  the  uses  of  this  great  revival  were 
several.  In  addition  to  its  value  in  saving  the  souls  of 
men,  by  the  impartation  of  sustaining  grace,  it  en 
abled  the  Confederate  soldiers  to  endure  their  in- 


The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies  53 

credible  hardships  during  the  last  days  of  the  war 
without  being  utterly  crushed.  So  reduced  had  their 
numbers  become,  that  often  their  poor  little  battle  lines 
were  stretched  out  with  not  more  than  one  man  to 
three  or  four  feet,  hardly  heavier  than  our  Union 
skirmish  lines.  When  our  forces  captured  a  company, 
thin,  ragged,  and  haggard,  they  all  looked  like  old  men 
—the  faces  of  the  very  boys  were  black,  wrinkled  and 
aged  from  starvation  and  hardship.  But  God  had  use 
for  these  men  yet,  and  their  religion  kept  them.  It 
reached  beyond  and  helped  them  through  the  sad  days 
of  reconstruction,  which,  with,  all  the  good  intentions 
of  the  North,  were  times  of  hideous  calamity  for  the 
South.  And  may  we  not  also  believe  that  the  effects 
of  that  revival  have  extended  through  all  the  days 
since,  producing  that  greater  regard  for  morals  and 
religion  characteristic  of  the  South,  and  including  as 
part  of  its  results,  the  temperance  reform  now  gladden 
ing  our  eyes  in  the  former  Confederate  states? 

It  is  well  on  these  memorial  days  to  recall  the 
things  which  throw  more  light  upon  the  trials  and 
character  of  our  southern  brethren. 

Old  soldiers  ask  that  the  nation  do  not  forget 
them.  New  issues,  new  times,  new  armies  have  arisen 
— the  sons  of  the  Blue  and  Gray  made  the  way  to  glory 
during  the  Spanish-American  war,  and  make  by  far 
the  largest  part  of  the  Memorial  Day  processions — 
but  let  none  cease  to  remember  the  Old  Brigades  of 


54  The  Northern  and  Southern  Armies 

the  past.  Let  us  enter  at  least  into  the  spirit  of  the 
aged  veteran  who  is  represented  as  musing  on  Me 
morial  Day: 

"The  new  brigades  are  mighty  fine,  the  boys  are  brave 

and  true, 
An'  the  gray  is  marchin'  side  by  side  with  them  that 

wore  the  blue; 

I  see  'em  on  the  hilltops — they're  drillin'  in  the  glades ; 
But  we  won't  fergit  the  old  boys  who  made  the  old 

brigades. 

"We  won't  fergit  the  fellers  that  fought  on  land  an' 

sea, 
An'  followed  "Stonewall"  Jackson,  an'  charged  with 

old  "Bob"  Lee! 
An'  Grant's  an'  Sherman's  fellers — their  mem'ry  never 

fades ; 
We    won't   fergit   the   old   boys   who    made    the   old 

brigades. 

"They're  thinnin'  out — the  old  boys — they're  few  now 

on  the  sod; 
They're  crossin' — crossin'  over  to  the  campin'  grounds 

of  God; 
I  see  the  young  boys  marchin'  on  hills  an'  fields  an* 

glades, 

But  we  won't  fergit  the  old  boys  who  made  the  old 
brigades." 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman. 


"And  devout  men  carried  Stephen  to  his  burial, 
and  made  great  lamentation  over  him."  Acts,  8:  2. 

The  New  Testament  records  of  the  early  Christian 
Church  present  us  with  every  variety  of  Christian 
character  and  excellence.  Supremely  above  all,  and 
in  all,  shines  the  Christ.  He  is  the  peerless,  central 
sun,  and  source  of  all  glory  and  all  good. 

Revolving  around  him  are  constellations  of  lesser 
luminaries  of  every  order  and  degree,  shining  by  his 
reflected  light.  There  are  holy  apostles,  such  as  John 
and  Peter,  and  Paul;  setting  the  world  ablaze  with 
their  fiery  zeal.  There  are  zealous  young  ministers — 
Timothy,  wise  in  the  scriptures  from  a  child;  and 
Apollos,  matchless  for  eloquence  and  Alexandrian 
learning. 

There  are  godly  women,  like  Mary  and  Lydia  and 
Dorcas;  known  and  loved  throughout  the  church  for 
their  quiet,  womanly  virtues  and  sweet  charities. 
There  are  bold  and  stalwart  "helpers"  and  traveling 
companions — Urbane,  and  the  "beloved  Onesimus," 
and  Tychicus.  And  there  is  a  long  galaxy  of  "brothers 
and  sisters  in  the  Lord  beloved,"  pastors,  evangelists, 
martyrs,  apologists,  servants  and  holy  little  children, 


56  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

all  luminous — some  shining  in  the  white  light  of  a 
peaceful  life  and  death,  and  others  encircled  by  the  red 
halo  of  a  glorious  martyrdom.  As  all  this  heavenly 
host  moves  on  amid  the  celestial  spaces  of  the  New 
Testament,  it  fills  them  with  a  visible  harmony.  It 
sheds  a  mingled  radiance  upon  the  world,  which  has 
not  waned,  but  waxed  through  nineteen  Christian  cen 
turies.  In  this  splendid  firmament  there  are  some 
mighty  spirits  who  dwell  apart — stars  of  the  first 
magnitude.  If  the  Christian  Church  were  asked  today 
to  indicate  its  one  pre-eminent,  realized  ideal  of  a 
gospel  minister,  its  suffrage  would  fall  upon  Paul,  the 
Apostle  to  the  Gentiles.  Would  it  command  one,  su 
preme  rule  upon  its  ministry  for  the  conduct  of  their 
lives,  it  would  bid  them  follow  Paul,  as  Paul  followed 
the  Christ.  But  did  it  wish  to  celebrate  the  most 
transcendent  example  of  distinguished  excellence  in 
the  illustrious  ranks  of  its  laity,  it  would  pronounce 
the  name  of  Stephen,  the  first  great  martyr.  We  come 
this  morning  to  exalt  him  as  the  model  layman  of  the 
Christian  Church  of  the  ages.  The  times  in  which  he 
lived  were  prodigal  in  greatness.  Their  New  Testa 
ment  records  can  afford  even  his  biography  but  brief 
space.  Enough,  however,  whereon  to  base  our  esti 
mates  of  his  character  is  given  in  the  clear  sweep  of 
St.  Luke's  masterly  outlines.  They  shall  therefore  be 
our  main  dependence  this  morning. 

Not  much  is  certainly  known  of  his  history  before 
St.  Luke's  narration  begins.  But  from  his  account, 
much  can  almost  certainly  be  inferred.  His  parents 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman  57 

were  Hellenistic  Jews.  They  thus  belonged  to  the 
Hebrew  Dispersion,  scattered  throughout  the  terri 
tories  of  Greece.  As  Hellenists,  they  would  be  free 
from  the  prejudices,  the  narrowness,  and  the  greed  of 
the  old  Aramaic  Jews.  They  would  hold  to  Judaism, 
but  their  cenceptions  of  it  would  be  liberal  and  en 
lightened.  To  the  deep  spirituality  of  their  Hebrew 
faith  would  be  united  the  keener  insight  and  classic 
grace  of  the  Greek  culture. 

With  such  parents,  Stephen  doubtless  had  a  cor 
responding  training.  Like  every  Jewish  boy,  at  a 
tender  age  he  would  be  taught  the  "Shema" — or  the 
Sun  of  the  Law  in  Moses.  He  would  learn  to  sing  the 
"Hallel" — or  the  household  praise  from  the  Psalms  of 
David.  He  would  be  taught  to  pray  by  the  fringes  on 
his  garments.  In  the  common  schools  he  would  gain 
the  rudiments  of  knowledge.  At  home  and  in  society 
he  would  hear  and  learn  the  language  of  Homer  and 
Pericles,  and  the  thoughts  of  Plato  and  Socrates. 

As  he  grew  older,  like  every  young  Hellenist  of 
good  family,  he  would  go  to  the  great  University  at 
Alexandria.  His  chief  study  there  would  be  that  Alex 
andrian  Bible,  from  which  he  quoted  in  his  defense. 
There  he  would  imbue  his  mind  with  that  eclectic  sys 
tem  of  Oriental  philosophy  and  Hebrew  religion  which 
was  the  faith  of  the  Hellenists.  From  Alexandria,  he 
would  go  to  Jerusalem,  and  sit  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel, 
the  only  Rabbi  who  taught  in  the  language  of  the 
Hellenists.  Stephen's  prominence  and  power  in  dis 
putation  proves  him  to  have  enjoyed  distinguished 


58  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

advantages.  In  Gamaliel's  school  it  is  not  unlikely 
that  he  was  a  fellow  student  with  Saul  of  Tarsus. 

And  since  Jerusalem  was  now  subject  to  Rome, 
there  he  would  come  into  contact  with  the  thought 
and  customs  of  the  Roman  world.  Finally,  leaving 
Gamaliel's  school,  he  would  almost  certainly  engage 
in  traffic,  the  special  avocation  of  the  Hellenist.  He 
belonged  to  a  race  even  then  the  Pilgrims  of  Com 
merce, — the  race  which  has  furnished  us  in  our  own 
time  with  the  Montefiores  and  Rothschilds.  He  would 
have  his  commercial  training  in  Jerusalem,  then  one 
of  the  world's  chief  marts.  In  her  markets,  where 
Greek  shrewdness,  and  Roman  cupidity,  and  Jewish 
thrift  contended  together  for  the  supremacy,  would  he 
gain  his  practical  knowledge  of  men  and  business. 

Thus,  three  civilizations  contributed  to  his  man 
hood.  The  Jewish,  the  Grecian,  and  the  Roman  world 
poured  their  best  influences  into  his  blood.  It  may  be 
said  of  Stephen,  as  of  Saul,  that  "the  books,  and  con 
science,  and  inspiration  of  the  Hebrews;  the  culture, 
and  philosophy,  and  poetry  of  the  Greeks;  and  the 
laws,  and  statesmanship,  and  power,  of  the  Romans, 
were  all  tributary  to  his  development."  With  such  an 
equipment  of  heart  and  brain,  he  conies  before  us. 

I. 

We  may  call  the  first  scene  in  which  he  appears, 
"Stephen  exemplifying  the  ideally  trusty  and  ener 
getic  church  officer."  It  is  a  time  of  trouble  and  dis 
tress  in  the  church  at  Jerusalem.  Many  are  the  desti- 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman  59 

tute,  the  widows  and  the  orphans.  The  second  great 
flood  of  persecution  is  about  to  dash  its  vast  volume 
upon  the  Pentecostal  church.  Already  are  the  feet  of 
the  believers  in  Jerusalem  lapped  by  the  bloody  surf. 
A  practical  communism  of  property  is  for  the  first  and 
last  time  in  history  established  among  the  Christians. 
Four  thousand  persons  hold  all  their  possessions  sub 
ject  to  all  the  claims  of  charity.  The  Hellenists  com 
plain  that  their  widows  are  neglected  in  the  daily  dis 
tribution.  The  apostles,  overburdened,  ask  the  church 
to  appoint  seven  deacons  for  this  work.  Stephen 
heads  the  list,  the  first  choice  of  the  church,  the  first 
lay  official  member! 

And  now,  as  he  stands  before  us,  let  us  look  at  the 
man.  He  is  chairman  of  the  first  Board  of  Stewards 
the  church  ever  had.  What  are  his  qualifications? 
According  to  the  apostolic  requirement,  he  is  a  man 
"of  honest  report,  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  wisdom 
for  this  business."  So  our  Discipline  directs  that  our 
stewards  be  "men  of  solid  piety,  who  both  know  our 
doctrine  and  discipline,  and  of  good  natural  and  ac 
quired  ability  to  transact  the  temporal  business." 

The  duty  of  the  ancient  deacons  was  "to  collect 
and  expend  alms,  and  money  for  the  support  of  the 
ministry  and  the  poor,  to  search  out  the  poor  and  apply 
funds  to  their  relief,  and  in  general,  to  be  helpers  of 
the  apostles?"  The  Disciplinary  duty  of  our  stewards 
is  given  in  nearly  the  same  words.  "It  is  to  collect, 
apply,  and  account  for  money  and  provisions  in  the 
church,  whether  for  preachers,  sick  or  poor;  to  seek 


60  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

the  needy  and  distressed  in  order  to  comfort  them;  to 
be  the  advisers  of  the  preachers  and  people;  and 
to  take  charge  of  the  temporal  concerns  of  the  socie 
ties."  Our  stewards  may  comfort  themselves  as  they 
go  about  by  thinking  of  Stephen  in  the  same  work. 
The  very  name  "Deacon"  indicates  the  arduous  char 
acter  of  the  office — it  is  from  dia  and  koris — "through 
the  dust" — and  assuredly  some  deacons  have  much 
dust  to  walk  through.  But  though  it  was  a  humble 
servant's  part,  doubtless  this  Stephen  glorified  it  by 
his  faithfulness. 

He  is  manifestly  a  man  of  marked  business  ability. 
He  would  not  otherwise  have  been  called  to  the  helm 
of  the  church's  temporal  affairs.  We  may  easily  sup 
pose  him  to  have  accumulated  a  competence,  and  now 
to  be  the  almoner  of  charities  of  which  he  has  been 
the  chief  founder.  He  rises  before  us,  a  man  "not 
slothful  in  business,  fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord." 
The  church  needs  such  men.  It  is  not  the  work  of  the 
ministry  "to  serve  tables."  That  church  is  below  the 
New  Testament  standard  which  compels  them  to 
manage  its  finance.  Division  of  labor  works  as  well 
inside  the  church  as  outside.  We  must  have  our 
Stephens  as  well  as  our  Pauls. 

And  happy  is  it  when  they  like  him,  have  not  only 
business  ability,  but  also  an  "honest  report."  He  was 
no  trickster — no  sharper — no  thievish  Judas — no 
grasping  Shylock.  No  business  scandals,  or  odor  of 
questionable  operations  clung  to  his  name.  Sad  is  the 
state  of  that  church  which  must  choose  men  of  doubt- 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman  61 

ful  honesty  to  office !  Perhaps  God  saved  the  church 
at  Jerusalem  from  such  a  disgrace  when  he  slew 
Ananias  who  kept  back  part  of  the  price  and  lied  to  the 
Holy  Ghost.  The  church  of  today  would  have  been 
kept  from  very  deep  shame  had  such  men  as 
Winslow,  the  "Reverend"  Boston  forger;  and  Pond, 
the  Worcester  embezzler;  and  Morton,  the  Philadel 
phia  railroad  thief;  and  Aliger,  the  absconding  insur 
ance  agent;  and  Gilman,  the  defaulter,  never  lived  to 
curse  it.  The  church  wants  men  who  can  make  friends 
of  the  "Mammon  of  Unrighteousness,"  but  in  Christian 
ways.  That  long  line  of  great  bankers  and  commercial 
magnates — the  Markoes,  the  Collins',  the  Budgetts' 
the  Lycetts,  the  Woolmans,  the  Peabodys — prove  that 
this  is  possible.  Such  men  compel  the  god  of  this 
world  to  pay  tribute  to  the  God  of  Heaven.  They 
solve  the  problem,  "how  to  be  a  Christian  in  trade." 
They  renounce  the  hidden  things  of  dishonesty.  They 
provide  things  honest  in  the  sight  of  all  men.  They 
carry  business  into  religion,  and  religion  into  business. 
They  gain  the  life  which  now  is,  and  that  which  is  to 
come.  And  the  first  factor  of  their  grand  success  is, 
that  to  a  splendid  ability  they  marry  a  splendid 
honesty. 

II. 

The  second  model  feature  in  Stephen's  character 
you  may  remember  by  this  title,  "The  Christian  of 
Vital  Godliness."  Not  only  is  the  secular  side  of  his 
piety  developed,  but  also  the  spiritual.  He  is  "full  of 


62  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

the  Holy  Ghost."  The  completeness  of  the  earthward 
half  of  his  character,  is  rounded  out  by  the  complete 
ness  of  the  heavenward  half  into  a  perfect  sphere.  His 
business  duties  are  not  performed  at  the  expense  of  his 
soul's  higher  exercise.  He  does  not  attend  to  church 
finance  and  turn  over  the  works  of  faith  and  power  to 
the  apostles  and  the  women.  He  knows  that  such  a 
course  will  be  bad  for  the  church,  and  worse  for  him 
self.  The  Holy  Ghost  dwells  in  him  so  richly  that  he 
is  irresistibly  impelled  to  tell  its  power.  He  feels  as 
Amos  did,  when  he  said  "The  Lord  hath  spoken,  who 
can  but  prophesy!"  There  is  such  an  impulse  in  him 
as  there  was  in  David  when  he  cried  "I  cannot  hide 
thy  righteousness  within  my  heart.  I  must  declare 
thy  faithfulness  and  thy  salvation.  I  cannot  conceal 
thy  loving  kindness  and  thy  truth  from  the  great  con 
gregation  !"  Those  who  love  God  will  confess  Him. 
And  so  the  church  sets  Stephen  apart  for  the  office  and 
work  of  the  ministry — not  indeed  to  travel  abroad,  as 
the  apostles,  but  to  labor  at  home. 

Stephen  is  the  first  local  preacher.  He  makes  full 
and  acceptable  proof  of  his  ministry.  The  report  of 
him  is  that  "Stephen,  full  of  faith  and  power,  did  great 
wonders  and  miracles  among  the  people."  He 
preaches  the  crucified  Christ  so  mightily  that  in  fair 
conflict  he  overthrows  the  picked  champions  of 
five  synagogues.  They  suborn  men  to  lie  against  him 
and  he  is  haled  before  the  council.  He  is  so  full  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  that  when  the  judges  behold  him,  in  the 
beautiful  Jewish  expression  of  the  Scripture,  "They 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman  63 

saw  his  face  as  though  it  had  been  that  of  an  angel." 
It  is  as  though  his  countenance  has  caught  the  glow 
of  the  Shekinah  between  the  Cherubs  on  the  Mercy 
Seat!  Or  as  if  like  another  Moses,  he  has  come  from 
communion  with  God  in  the  mountain  top ! 

That  "Solar  Light,"  which  according  to  one  of 
our  keenest  observers  sometimes  beams  in  the  counte 
nance  of  him  in  whom  conscience  sits  regnant — which 
often  glows  in  the  face  of  the  holy  dying  —  which 
streamed  from  the  person  of  the  transfigured  Christ — 
and  which  differs  from  all  other  light  in  this,  that  as 
one  of  the  Fathers  says,  in  it  God  seems  to  terrify  evil, 
and  overawe  beholders,  and  rejoice  —  this  "Solar 
Light"  is  now  in  Stephen's  face  in  life's  supreme  and 
final  hour.  "The  judges,  when  they  saw  his  glorified 
countenance,  might  have  remembered  the  super 
natural  shining  on  the  face  of  Moses,  and  trembled 
lest  Stephen's  voice  should  be  about  to  speak  the  will 
of  Jehovah,  like  that  of  the  great  Lawgiver.  Instead 
of  being  occupied  with  the  faded  glories  of  the  second 
Temple,  they  might  have  recognized  in  the  spectacle 
before  them,  the  Shekinah  of  the  Christian  Soul,  which 
is  the  living  sanctuary  of  God."  What  marvel  was  it, 
that  during  his  presence  with  the  church  at  Jerusalem, 
"the  word  of  God  increased,  and  the  number  of  the 
disciples  multiplied  greatly"?  Give  the  church  an 
officiary  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  today,  and  the  result 
will  be  the  same.  Next  after  its  presence  in  the  minis- 


64  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

try,  the  spirit  of  God  must  dwell  in  their  helpers. 
Unless  they  are  suns,  radiating  warmth  and  light, 
they  are  icebergs,  chilling  to  spiritual  death  the  garden 
of  God. 

III. 

The  third  scene  in  his  life  we  will  entitle — 
"Stephen  the  Layman  of  Intelligence."  He  is  not  only 
"honest,"  and  of  "good  report,"  and  "full  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,"  but  he  is  also  "full  of  Wisdom."  Now  he 
stands  before  the  counsel  making  his  defense.  His 
plea  is  a  wonderful  specimen  of  keen  dialectic  skill 
and  philosophic  breadth  of  culture.  In  those  seventy 
doctors  of  the  Sanhedrin  yonder,  he  has  to  face  the 
combined  learning  and  prejudice  of  all  Judaism.  Not 
Huss  at  Constance,  not  Savonarola  at  Florence,  not 
Luther  at  Worms  had  to  face  such  frightful  odds.  He 
is  arraigned,  prejudiced  and  foredoomed,  on  that  old 
fatal  charge  of  blasphemy  against  the  Temple  and  the 
Law.  He  is  as  good  as  a  dead  man,  and  he  knows  it. 

But  see  him  standing  there  in  the  splendid  courage 
of  his  conscious  grasp  of  every  issue.  He  ranges  the 
whole  domain  of  Jewish  law.  He  constructs  a  philoso 
phy  of  Hebrew  history.  He  shows  that  its  inevitable 
logic  is  Christianity.  He  holds  the  Council  in  the  grip 
of  his  merciless  argument.  He  impales  them  on  'the 
glittering  lance  of  his  relentless  logic.  He  goads  them 
into  uncontrollable  fury  with  his  terrible  reproofs. 
He  outfaces,  and  crushes  and  utterly  humiliates  the 
whole  Sanhedrin,  until  they  have  no  answer  but  stones, 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman  65 

and  no  argument  but  the  wild  yell  of  a  brutal  mob. 
Only  souls  that  have  been  down,  down  to  the  founda 
tions  of  rock,  can  thus  stand  for  God  and  truth.  Only 
those  who  are  able  to  give  a  reason  for  the  hope  that  is 
in  them  can  withstand  the  winds  of  opposing  doctrine. 
What  a  bulwark  of  strength  to  the  church  are  laymen 
so  grounded  in  her  principles!  How  safely  she  can 
trust  her  doctrines  in  their  keeping!  What  respect  for 
her  does  their  cultured  devotion  secure ! 

Saul  of  Tarsus  sits  there  in  the  Council,  with  his 
slight  form,  and  splendid  head,  and  Jewish  face,  and 
hooked  nose,  and  steady  eye,  intently  listening. 
Stephen  burns  some  arguments  into  his  unwilling 
brain  that  he  will  remember,  and  use  too,  after  awhile, 
when  he  is  come,  in  his  turn,  to  stand  before  kings 
and  councils.  Stephen  makes  his  historic  argument, 
and  Paul  will  repeat  it  at  Antioch.  Stephen  affirms 
his  loyalty  to  the  true  Jewish  faith,  and  Paul  will  use 
almost  the  same  words  in  his  own  defense  before 
Agrippa.  Stephen  declares  that  the  Law  came  by  the 
disposition  of  Angels,  but  Grace  and  Truth  by  Jesus 
Christ,  and  Paul  will  write  those  very  phrases  to  the 
Galatians.  Stephen  cries  out  that  the  Most  High 
dwells  not  in  Temples  made  with  men's  hands,  and 
Paul  will  ring  that  sublime  utterance  again  on  Mars 
Hill,  at  Athens,  in  the  ears  of  the  court  of  the  Areopa 
gus. 

Saul  sat  before  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel.  He  is 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  a  greater  than  Gamaliel  now. 
One  of  the  chief  of  Spanish  artists  has  painted  a  pic- 


66  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

ture  of  Stephen  conducted  to  the  place  of  execution 
He  has  represented  Saul  as  walking  at  his  side  with  a 
melancholy  calmness.  In  his  face  is  the  shadow  of 
coming  repentence.  That  shadow  is  a  tribute  to  the 
power  of  Stephen's  wondrous  words  before  the  Coun 
cil.  It  is  enough,  though  one  should  die,  to  drive  the 
electric  bolt  of  new  convictions  into  the  mind  of  Saul, 
or  such  as  Saul.  Only  to  a  royal  mind,  royally  dow 
ered  with  earthly  and  with  heavenly  wisdom,  is  such 
achievement  given. 

Such  a  Christian  layman  was  Stephen.  In  his 
nature  were  combined  all  the  elements  of  a  model. 
Not  one  was  lacking.  Give  any  man  good  natural 
abilities,  fill  him  with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  give  all  the 
needed  culture,  and  he  will  be  a  brilliant  success  as  a 
Christian  and  a  man.  And  now  let  us  look  at  the  re 
sults  of  Stephen's  life,  and  especially  of  his  defense 
before  the  Sanhedrin. 

IV. 

The  first  result  was  his  own  death.  "When  the 
Council  heard  these  things  they  were  cut  to  the  heart, 
and  they  gnashed  on  him  with  their  teeth.  But  he 
being  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  looked  up  steadfastly 
into  heaven,  and  saw  the  glory  of  God,  and  Jesus 
standing  on  the  right  hand  of  God."  As  Dean  How- 
son  eloquently  observed,  "The  scene  before  his  eyes 
was  no  longer  the  Council  hall  at  Jerusalem,  and  the 
circle  of  his  infuriated  Judges;  but  he  gazed  up  into 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman  67 

the  endless  courts  of  the  celestial  Jerusalem,  with  its 
innumerable  company  of  angels,  and  saw  Jesus  in 
whose  righteous  cause  he  was  about  to  die."  That 
Saviour  at  God's  right  hand  is  not  now  seated  on  his 
throne  as  he  is  usually  represented;  but  as  Chrysos- 
tom  has  beautifully  observed,  he  has  risen,  to  receive 
his  faithful  martyr.  "And  Stephen  said  Behold,  I  see 
the  heavens  opened,  and  the  Son  of  Man  standing  on 
the  right  hand  of  God !"  "Then  they  cried  out  with  a 
loud  voice,  and  stopped  their  ears,  and  ran  upon  him 
with  one  accord/' 

The  wild  and  tumultous  mob  drag  him  out  of  the 
Council  Hall,  over  the  Via  Dolorosa,  along  which  his 
Saviour's  feet  had  walked  at  Calvary,  on  past  the  hall 
of  judgment  where  that  Saviour  was  scourged,  out 
through  one  of  the  city  gates  which  now  bears 
Stephen's  name,  rejoicing  to  suffer,  like  his  Lord, 
"without  the  gate,"  over  the  beetling  crags  of  the 
Valley  of  Jehosaphat,  and  down  by  the  little  brook 
Kedron.  And  there,  under  the  shadow  of  those  sacred 
cedars  which  to  this  day  stand,  close  by  that  garden  of 
Gethsemane,  upon  whose  tear-drenched  sod  his  Saviour 
had  bowed  all  the  long  night  of  his  agony;  kneeling 
beneath  the  missiles  of  his  murderers;  like  his  Lord, 
praying  that  this  sin  be  not  laid  to  their  charge;— 
Stephen  "fell  asleep." 

The  next  result  was  a  most  violent  persecution. 
Stephen's  defense,  and  dying  prayer  smote  Satan  as 
with  a  spear,  full  in  the  teeth.  The  powers  of  Dark 
ness  howled  with  rage  and  rallied  to  his  aid.  By  the 


68  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

recoil  of  the  blow,  the  Church  was  scattered  far  and 
wide.  But,  oh,  wonderful,  "God  makes  the  wrath  of 
man  to  praise  Him!"  Wherever  that  scattered 
Church  goes,  it  goes  preaching.  Every  word  is  like  a 
spark  of  fire  in  the  dry  grass  of  the  autumnal  praries, 
and  lo!  the  flames  are  flashing  heavenward  all  over 
Judea  and  Samaria !  When  Stephen  fell,  it  was  as  in 
the  Fable— a  Demi-god  stamps  the  earth,  and  out  of 
it  spring  a  thousand  plumed  warriors! 

But  there  was  another  and  still  more  marvelous 
result.  We  saw  Saul  of  Tarsus  sitting  by  in  the  Hall 
of  Judgment.  Into  his  proud,  bigoted,  persecuting  soul 
there  is  creeping  the  thought  that  Stephen  may  be 
right.  And  now  he  sees  his  face  shining,  he  hears 
him  speak  of  the  opening  heavens  and  the  risen 
Saviour.  And  now  he  stands  by  and  sees  him  die.  He 
hears  the  martyr's  prayer  for  his  enemies,  and  that 
drives  the  barbed  arrow  of  conviction  deep  into  his 
inmost  soul.  And  now,  like  some  maddened  creature, 
he  rages  up  and  down  throughout  the  land,  "making 
havoc  of  the  Church,  entering  every  house,  haling  men 
and  women,  and  committing  them  to  prison,"  for  very 
anguish  from  the  unbearable  torment  of  a  soul  aroused. 
Still  goaded  on  by  rankling  darts,  he  turns  towards 
Damascus,  "breathing  out  threatings  and  slaughter." 
At  midday  he  is  smitten  down  by  an  intolerable 
brightness  above  that  of  the  sun,  and  hears  a  Voice, 
saying  what  his  conscience  has  all  the  while  been  say 
ing,  "Saul,  Saul,  it  is  hard  for  thee  to  kick  against  the 
pricks!"  Saul  of  Tarsus  falls  headlong,  to  rise  up 


Stephen,  the  Model  Layman  69 

Paul,  the  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles !  The  Church  has 
lost  Stephen,  its  first  great  layman,  but  it  has  gained  its 
first  great  apostle!  And  the  most  poignant  arrow  of 
Paul's  conviction  he  has  confessed  in  his  own  words — 
"Lord,  when  the  blood  of  thy  martyr  Stephen  was 
shed,  I  also  was  standing  by  and  consenting  unto  his 
death."  Well  has  St.  Augustine  said  that  "if  St.  Stephen 
had  not  prayed,  the  Church  would  not  have  had  St. 
Paul !" 

The  world  might  have  learned  that  the  policy  of 
persecution  is  so  poor  that  it  is  no  policy  at  all.  All 
attempts  to  stone  a  principle,  or  whip  the  right,  or 
behead  justice,  are  against  the  nature  of  things,  against 
the  law  of  the  universe,  and  the  very  stars  in  their 
course  will  fight  against  them.  Persecution  is  an  in 
sane  attempt  to  cheat  nature,  to  make  water  run  up 
hill,  to  argue  against  gravitation,  to  make  a  rope  of 
sand..  Truth  has  an  eternal  life  and  cannot  be  slain. 
Its  fair  image  may  be  shattered,  but,  like  that  of  the 
good  Egyptian  goddess,  the  future  will  hunt  up  the 
pieces  and  put  them  together  again  !  As  well  try  to  put 
out  the  sun  with  a  fire  engine  as  to  extinguish  Truth.  A 
martyr  cannot  be  dishonered.  Every  lash  is  a  tongue 
of  flame.  Every  prison  is  a  more  illustrious  abode. 
Every  burned  book  illuminates  the  world.  Every 
suppressed  word  vibrates  from  side  to  side. 

Persecution  of  the  ancient  form' has  ceased,  not  be 
cause  the  inclination  to  persecute  has  departed,  but 
because  "the  blood  of  the  martyrs  is  the  seed  of  the 
Church."  Every  pillar  in  the  temple  of  Truth  stands 


70  Stephen,  the  Model  Layman 

on  some  martyr's  grave !  In  the  mouth  of  two  wit 
nesses  shall  every  evil  be  condemned.  The  dead  speak 
louder  than  the  living.  When  the  thunder  went  forth 
from  the  lips  of  the  dead  Christ,  and  the  dying  Stephen, 
then  heathenism  and  Judaism  were  smitten  with  their 
doom.  Let  a  present  day  application  be  made  of  these 
facts,  by  all  who  oppose  and  malign  the  apostles  of 
God's  ever  new  gospel  given  in  truth's  revelations  of 
the  2Oth  century ! 

"And  devout  men  carried  Stephen  to  his  burial." 
That  little  funeral  procession  was  a  grander  one  than 
any  funeral  train  that  ever  followed  earthly  king  or 
conqueror.  "And  they  made  great  lamentation  over 
him."  Those  few  and  simple  words  are  brimming  with 
the  tears  of  a  weeping  Church.  They  are  a  more 
precious  tribute  than  piled  granite,  or  monumental 
brass.  In  their  hearts  was  a  sorrow  only  felt  when  the 
good  man  dies.  But  we  may  easily  believe  that  with 
the  note  of  their  sorrow  there  mingled  a  more  tri 
umphant  strain.  Their  faith  ascended  above  the  plain 
tive  sound  of  the  martyr's  funeral  hymn.  They  saw 
him  victor,  crowned  and  palmed  forever,  in  the 
presence  of  his  God.  They  beheld  his  fame  imperish- 
ably  preserved  in  the  records  of  scripture.  They 
knew  him  embalmed  in  the  thought  of  the  coming 
universal  Church,  as  the  First  Great  Layman,  and  the 
First  Great  Martyr. 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering. 


A  Thanksgiving  Sermon. 

Exodus,  23,  16.  "Thou  shalt  keep  the  feast  of  in 
gathering,  which  is  in  the  end  of  the  year,  when  thou 
hast  gathered  in  they  labors  out  of  the  field." 

The  "feast  of  ingathering"  was  one  of  the  three 
great  annual  festivals  of  the  Jews.  It  fell  toward  the 
latter  part  of  what  would  be  our  month  of  October. 
It  was  a  season  of  gratitude  and  thanksgiving  for  the 
ingathering  of  the  harvest,  a  time  of  family  reunions 
and  feastings  and  rejoicings,  a  time  of  personal,  and 
religious,  and  national  interest.  It  was  also  called 
the  "feast  of  tabernacles,"  because  the  people  at  the 
same  time  celebrated  the  journey  through  the  wilder 
ness  by  dwelling  in  booths  and  tents,  to  remind  them 
selves  of  that  eventful  sojourn.  The  whole  occasion 
furnishes,  perhaps,  the  best  prototype  of  our  Ameri 
can  Thanksgiving.  Let  us,  then,  call  this  day  our 
"feast  of  tabernacles."  Coming  a  little  later  in  the 
season,  it  is  significant  of  the  same  truths  and  les 
sons. 

How  excellent  are  all  such  acknowledgements  of 
God's  love  and  care.  "Be  careful  for  nothing,"  is  the 
encouraging  admonition  of  scripture,  "but  in  every- 


72  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

thing,  with  prayer  and  supplication,  with  thanksgiv 
ing,  let  your  requests  be  made  known  unto  God."  One 
day  in  each  year  is  none  too  much  to  be  given  to  a  re 
hearsal,  before  God,  of  our  gains  and  prosperities. 
Israel's  Thanksgiving  lasted  a  whole  week.  And  here 
in  our  land,  when  the  plow  is  laid  aside  and  the  toils 
of  the  season  are  past;  when  all  the  autumn  fruits 
are  safely  housed  under  sure  shelter,  and  the  Indian 
Summer  is  over;  when  the  glorious,  crisp  frosts  come, 
rilling  the  veins  with  vigor  and  the  steps  with  a  more 
elastic  spring;  then  indeed  it  is  a  sight  worth  looking 
at  and  admiring,  to  see  a  great  people,  summoned  by 
their  Chief  Magistrate,  coming  up  devoutly  to  thank 
a  beneficent  Creator  for  His  patient  care  of  them  all. 
It  gives  hope  for  the  future. 

The  duty  and  beauty  of  thanksgiving  seem  to  in 
here  especially  in  Christian  character  and  Christian 
peoples.  Thanksgiving  is  peculiar  to  believers  in  the 
Bible.  Indians  remember  a  friend  or  enemy  for  many 
years,  but  the  best  observers  say  it  only  comes  from 
their  instinct  of  self-preservation,  as  in  the  lower  ani 
mals.  But  Indians,  I  am  told,  never  express  thank 
fulness.  They  take  whatever  is  given  them,  from 
good  bread  to  bad  whiskey,  and  appropriate  it  without 
the  slightest  sign  of  gratitude.  Missionaries  report 
the  same  characteristic  of  the  natives  of  the  islands  of 
the  sea.  Thanksgiving  is  largely  a  fruit  of  the  Bible, 
which  teaches  us  that  we  are  pensioners  upon  the 
bounty  of  heaven. 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  73 

So  then,  such  a  day  as  this  is  the  first  thing  for 
which  we  have  to  thank  God.  It  is  a  national  recog 
nition  of  God.  It  could  not  exist  under  the  theory  of 
materialism.  That  there  be  any  reason  in  it,  requires 
that  something  be  at  the  head  of  this  universe  more 
than  mere  evolution,  more  than  fate,  more  than  blind 
law,  more  than  dead  matter.  It  requires  a  personal 
will  on  the  throne  of  a  moral  government,  ordering 
this  universe  in  the  interests  of  His  kingdom,  even  by 
a  general  and  a  particular  Providence.  To  thank 
anything  less  than  this  Divine,  personal,  voluntary 
Ruler  would  be  a  crime  against  the  clearness  of  the 
human  intellect,  against  the  instincts  of  the  human 
heart,  and  against  the  convictions  of  the  human  con 
science.  Thanksgiving  Day  is  sound  in  philosophy, 
sound  in  theology,  sound  in  morals,  sound  in  religion, 
and  sound  in  experience.  It  signifies  much,  then,  to 
have  the  nation  render  thanks  to  God.  The  public 
conscience  is  not  dead. 

As  we  begin  to  cast  about  a  little,  how  subjects 
for  gratitude  multiply!  To  begin  with,  thank  God 
for  existence  itself.  I  lately  read  the  biography  of 
Norman  McLeod,  that  noble  Scotchman,  chaplain  to 
the  Queen  of  England,  and  nothing  in  it  strikes  me 
more  forcibly  than  his  frequent  and  hearty  expres 
sions  of  gladness  that  God  has  given  him  life  and  part 
in  this  grand,  beautiful  world.  We  had  no  choice  in 
reference  to  existence,  and  yet  who  of  us  would  not 
wish  to  be?  To  whom,  having  his  right  mind,  is  the 
earth  so  dreary  a  place  that  he  would  wish  never  to 


74  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

have  come  into  it?  Thank  God  today  that  you  are, 
and  that  he  made  you !  Your  whole  physical  struc 
ture,  adjusted  so  nicely,  equipped  so  admirably  for 
service,  made  so  noble,  so  alert,  fashioned  so  delicately 
and  yet  so  strongly,  standing  up  before  the  gaze  of 
angels  and  of  men,  a  masterpiece  of  mechanism — God 
made  it.  That  wonderful  thought-power  of  yours — 
wandering  through  the  ages  backward  and  forward — 
diving  to  the  depths  and  soaring  to  the  heights  of 
eternity — darting  quicker  than  an  arrow's  flight — that 
inventive,  wonder-creating,  earth-astonishing,  heaven- 
admiring  thought-power — God  gave  you  !  These  wills, 
the  masters  of  your  souls,  lording  it  over  them  with 
imperial  sway,  seizing  the  helm  and  tossing  the  vessel 
whither  they  will — these  wills  God  gave  us.  The 
whole  man,  from  center  to  circumference,  the  man, 
known  and  unknown,  God  has  made  for  our  own  hap 
piness,  which  is  His  glory.  Life  as  it  is,  notwithstand 
ing  all  its  toils  and  troubles,  diseases  and  disappoint 
ments,  griefs  and  graves,  sorrows  and  sighings,  we 
feel  to  be  desired  rather  than  non-existence.  Thank 
God  for  being. 

Then  He  has  given  us  our  being  in  a  land  of  liberty 
and  Christianity;  bless  Him  today  for  that.  We  do 
not  see  a  woman  here  yoked  with  a  donkey  in  a 
leathern  harness,  drawing  a  plow  through  the  fur 
rows,  as  you  can  in  that  country  where  Jesus  stilled 
the  tempest  from  His  place  in  the  boat.  It  is  because 
this  is  a  Christian  land,  while  that  is  not.  You  will 
not  see  a  man  driving  his  own  wife  yoked  with  a  cow, 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  75 

the  two  pulling  a  heavy  harrow  over  the  plowed 
ground,  as  you  can  in  the  old  land  of  the  Pharaohs. 
You  do  not  hear  men  apologizing  here  for  having  to 
mention  such  a  thing  as  a  wife  or  a  daughter  in  decent 
society,  as  you  can  in  Turkey.  When  a  little  child  is 
born  here,  they  do  not  bring  in  a  tub  of  water  and  hold 
a  family  council  whether  it  shall  be  drowned  or  not, 
as  they  do  in  China.  Our  religion  makes  the  difference. 

Look  around  you  and  see  how  Christianity 
touches  with  its  beams  the  darkest  lots  in  life,  and 
makes  them  brighter.  Go  into  our  great  cities — and 
little  cities,  and  even  country  places,  and  see  our 
Gospel  benevolences!  Homes  of  kindness  and  plenty 
for  incurables  and  cripples;  infirmaries  for  the  helpful 
treatment  of  the  eyes,  the  ears,  the  limbs,  the  de 
formed;  hospitals  for  old  men  and  old  women;  re 
formatories  for  delinquents,  for  wandering  girls  and 
homeless  boys;  for  Magdalens  and  drunkards;  for 
those  diseased  in  mind  and  distressed  in  body.  It 
might  be  said  that  every  one  of  these  institutions  is  a 
child  of  Christianity  in  some  form  of  its  working.  A 
few  years  ago  I  walked  with  a  returned  missionary 
through  the  halls  of  one  of  our  spacious  asylums  for 
the  insane.  "There  is  no  such  native  institution  as 
this  in  all  India,"  said  he. 

There  is  nothing  Christianity  does  not  brighten — 
even  the  very  presence  of  death  itself.  Go  out  into  our 
beautiful  Greenlawn  cemetery  yonder.  There  is  a 
group  of  mourners  standing  round  a  new  hillock.  A 
man  stands  in  their  midst.  He  is  a  minister.  He  is 


76  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

telling  those  broken-hearted  men  and  women  to  look 
down  into  the  grave,  and  see  the  opening  on  the  other 
side  of  it,  through  which  Christ  passed  when  he  broke 
the  bars  of  death  and  led  captivity  captive.  And  he  is 
telling  them  that  those  who  sleep  He  will  bring  with 
Him  when  He  comes  again,  and  that  eternal  life  shall 
have  the  victory  over  death. 

So  everywhere ;  the  religion  of  Jesus  brightens  all 
our  land  and  lives.  Faith  stands  holding  up  a  torch — 
like  that  great  bronze  figure  of  Liberty  in  New  York 
harbor,  with  its  prodigious  light  for  every  one  that 
passes  out  toward  the  ocean  through  the  Narrows — 
so  Faith  stands,  flinging  its  illumination  forth  upon 
the  silent  ships  that  are  sailing  over  deeps  of  existence 
as  yet  to  us  unknown. 

The  fact  is,  my  friends,  we  are  not  half  thankful 
enough  for  the  common  blessings  of  existence,  let 
alone  the  greater  blessings  of  our  Christian  religion. 
I  was  reading  something  a  while  ago  from  the 
"Thoughts  of  Marcus  Aurelius,"  the  grandest  stoic  of 
the  old  pagan  Roman  emperors,  that  puts  one  to  the 
blush,  and  that  I  fear  shames  us  all.  He  knew  of  no 
Christ,  no  future  life,  no  heaven ;  and  yet  hear  his 
gratitude  for  some  of  the  great  common  blessings 
which  we  so  often  forget.  "To  the  gods  I  am  in 
debted,"  he  says,  "for  having  good  grandfathers,  good 
parents,  a  good  sister,  good  teachers,  good  associates, 
good  kinsmen  and  friends,  nearly  everything  good. 
Further,  I  owe  it  to  the  gods  that  I  was  not  hurried 
into  any  offense  against  any  of  them,  though  I  had  a 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  77 

disposition  which,  if  opportunity  had  offered,  might 
have  led  me  to  do  something  of  this  kind ;  but  through 
their  favor,  there  never  was  such  a  concurrence  of  cir 
cumstances  as  put  me  to  the  trial.  Further,  I  am 
thankful  to  the  gods  that  I  was  subjected  to  a  ruler 
and  a  father  who  was  able  to  take  away  all  pride  from 
me.  I  thank  the  gods  for  giving  me  such  a  brother 
who  was  able  by  his  moral  character  to  rouse  me  to 
vigilance  over  myself;  that  my  children  have  not  been 
deformed  nor  stupid;  that  I  did  not  make  more  pro 
ficiency  in  rhetoric,  poetry  and  the  other  studies,  in 
which  I  should  perhaps  have  been  completely  en 
gaged  if  I  had  seen  that  I  was  making  progress  in 
them;  that  I  received  clear  and  frequent  impressions 
about  living  according  to  nature,  and  what  kind  of 
a  life  that  is,  and  that  I  was  helped  by  the  gods  to 
live  such  a  life,  though  I  still  fall  short  of  it  through 
my  own  fault,  and  through  not  observing  the  admoni 
tions  of  the  gods;  that  my  body  has  held  out  so  long 
in  such  a  kind  of  life ;  that  though  it  was  my  mother's 
fate  to  die  young,  she  spent  the  last  years  of  her  life 
with  me;  that  I  have  such  a  wife,  so  obedient,  and  so 
affectionate,  and  so  simple-hearted;  that  I  had  abund 
ance  of  good  masters  for  my  children,"  and  so  he  con 
tinues. 

Those  words  are  written,  he  tells  us,  while  he  is 
leading  his  armies  in  a  campaign  against  the  bar 
barians  of  Northern  Europe — penned  in  his  diary  after 
days  of  battle.  We  can  imagine  that  we  see  him 
"seated  in  his  tent,  on  the  borders  of  some  gloomy 


78  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

Pannonian  forest,  or  Hungarian  marsh;  through  the 
darkness  the  watchfires  of  the  enemy  gleam  in  the 
distance;  but  both  among  them,  and  in  the  camp 
around  him,  every  sound  is  hushed,  except  the  tread 
of  the  sentinel  outside;  and  in  that  tent,  long  after 
midnight,  sits  the  patient  emperor  by  the  light  of  his 
solitary  lamp;  and  ever  and  anon,  amid  his  lonely 
musings,  he  pauses  to  write  down"  those  words  that, 
after  eighteen  centuries,  reprove  the  thoughtless  in 
gratitude  of  thousands  of  Christians  far  more  privi 
leged  than  he. 

Cannon  Farrar  declares  in  his  "Seekers  after 
God,"  concerning  this  same  pagan  emperor,  that  "a 
nobler,  a  greater,  a  purer,  a  sweeter  soul — a  soul  more 
fitted  by  virtue,  and  chastity,  and  self  denial  to  enter 
into  the  eternal  peace,  never  passed  into  the  presence 
of  its  Heavenly  Father."  And  I  have  no  doubt  that 
his  habit  of  thanksgiving,  of  which  I  have  given  you 
but  a  single  instance  out  of  many,  contributed  largely 
to  the  formation  of  his  lofty  character.  Thanksgiving, 
cultivated  into  a  habit,  enlarges  the  whole  man. 

It  is  a  means  of  grace  to  the  soul.  It  is  not  diffi 
cult  to  change  the  entire  current  of  religious  experi 
ence  by  the  exercise  of  this  virtue.  You  can  pass 
from  misery  to  joy,  or  from  joy  to  misery,  by  the  way 
you  look  at  the  same  happenings.  Try  it!  Think  how 
little  you  have,  compared  with  what  you  desire;  how 
little  you  have,  compared  with  some  of  your  neighbors  ; 
how  your  plans  have  failed  and  your  work  been 
vain,  and  your  hopes  been  blasted;  how  much  your 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  79 

friend  is  allowed  to  enjoy  while  you  grope  in  sorrow. 
Try  that,  and  see  how  bitter  you  become.  Your  heart 
dies  within  you !  You  feel  like  murmuring,  "God  does 
not  treat  me  as  he  does  others,  He  is  a  hard  Master." 
All  this  comes  out  of  your  mode  of  thinking  concerning 
God's  treatment  of  you. 

Now  reverse  the  order.  Look  at  the  bright  side. 
How  many  things  you  have  that  you  do  not  deserve! 
How  much  you  are  blessed  above  the  blind  beggar 
standing  in  the  street  in  front  of  your  house,  waiting 
for  the  tardy  penny  of  charity!  How  much  more  you 
have  than  the  poor  creature  on  the  hospital  cot — more 
than  the  unfortunates  that  fester  in  tenement  houses ! 
Think  how  wonderfully  God  has  blessed  you  in  the 
experience  of  knowing  the  Bible  and  the  Saviour. 
You  are  an  heir  of  God !  You  are  a  candidate  for  im 
mortality!  You  are  going  to  an  eternal  throne.  You 
have  the  divine  chart  to  guide  you,  an  accessible  mercy- 
seat  to  strengthen  you,  an  open  heaven  to  inspire  you, 
angels  to  accompany  you,  an  Almighty  Providence  to 
protect  you,  the  Holy  Ghost  to  comfort  you,  the  Son 
of  God  to  pass  you  by  all  the  guards  and  sentinels, 
outposts  and  gates  of  Glory.  And  you  have  God 
Almighty  to  be  your  Father!  Surely  God  has  treated 
you  better  than  you  deserve  !  How  your  breast  warms 
up,  and  you  feel  as  if  it  was  a  boon  to  receive  such  a 
life! 

Thanksgiving  is  a  means  of  Grace !  This  day 
render  unto  God  thanksgiving!  If  for  nothing  else, 
thank  Him  that  He  has  not  punished  you  for  your 


80  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

sins  as  you  deserve;  but  instead  of  judgment  has  re 
membered  mercy.  If  the  sun  should  fold  up  his  beams, 
and  shut  them  up  in  his  own  bosom,  he  would  die  out 
of  the  universe.  Pour  out  your  gratitude  to  the  Giver 
of  all  good,  and  shut  not  up  your  heart,  lest  it  die 
within  you,  and  there  be  none  to  deliver  you  from  the 
body  of  this  death  ! 

How  manifold  our  reasons  for  thankfulness  to 
God  today!  We  have  not  yet  wearied  His  patience, 
nor  exhausted  the  fulness  of  His  grace.  Although  some 
of  us  have  been  carried  far  out,  we  have  not  yet 
crossed  the  great  ocean  of  infinite  love.  Its  depths  no 
plummet  of  ours  has  sounded.  Has  pestilence  walked 
in  darkness,  we  have  escaped  it;  has  destruction 
wasted  at  noonday,  it  has  not  come  nigh  us.  We  have 
slept  unharmed  while  many  have  waked  in  pain.  We 
have  fed  to  the  full,  while  many  have  lacked.  Our 
hunger  has  been  supplied  from  the  animal  kingdom, 
by  large  demands  from  the  harvest-fields,  by  contribu 
tions  from  heavy-laden  orchards,  and  from  the  wealthy 
caverns  and  winding  caves  of  the  mighty  deep. 

For  our  poverty,  earth  has  opened  her  varied 
treasures ;  and  for  our  sickness,  all  her  healing  powers. 
Sorrows  have  been  sanctified.  Losses  have  not  crushed 
us  utterly.  We  have  been  supported  in  trials,  rescued 
from  dangers,  and  kept  from  the  power  of  temptation. 
The  Almighty  arm  has  undergirded  us  continually. 
His  hand  withdrawn,  we  perish!  Therefore,  "Return 
unto  thy  rest,  O  my  soul,  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt 
bountifully  with  thee.  What  shall  I  render  unto  the 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  81 

Lord  for  all  his  benefits  toward  me?  I  will  take  the 
cup  of  salvation,  and  call  upon  the  name  of  the  Lord. 
I  will  offer  to  thee  the  sacrifice  of  thanksgiving,  in  the 
courts  of  the  Lord's  house,  in  the  midst  of  thee,  O 
Jerusalem.  Praise  ye  the  Lord." 

There  are  those  of  us  who  are  in  the  prime  of  life. 
Thank  God  today  for  the  opportunity  we  have  of  strik 
ing  strong  blows  for  the  right.  There  is  much  evil  in  the 
world,  but  the  Lord  is  giving  us  a  chance  to  beat  it 
down.  That  which  the  old  pagan  Roman  soldier  re 
joiced  in  as  he  struck  the  enemies  of  his  country— 
the  gaudium  certamenis — the  joy  of  battle — is  ours. 
Thank  God,  we  have  not  yet  been  smitten  dead  upon 
the  field,  or  invalided  to  the  hospital;  but  with  the 
heart's  pulses  leaping  full  high,  and  arms  nerved  to 
might  by  the  infallible  assurance  of  victory,  we  follow 
where  the  Son  of  God  goes  forth  to  war. 

The  season  of  the  year  is  suggestive  of  change. 
We  have  passed  the  glory  of  the  dying  autumn.  The 
forests,  which  a  month  ago  were  burning  with  the 
gold  and  crimson  of  the  oak  and  maple,  are  stripped  of 
their  beauty.  Some  days  there  may  yet  be  when 
autumn,  loath  to  leave,  will  seem  to  linger  and  mingle 
again  her  warmth  with  winter's  outward  look,  but  the 
coldest  weather  of  the  year  is  at  hand.  The  familiar 
voices  of  birds  in  field  and  grove  are  hushed,  and  sum 
mer  songsters,  like  fair-weather  friends,  are  gone. 
The  fruits  and  corn  are  gathered,  and  the  ripe  grain 


82  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

stands  in  lordly  stacks  around  well-filled  barns  and 
granaries.  The  season  is  that  wherein  the  husband 
man  enjoys  the  fruit  of  past  labors. 

There  are  those  here  today  in  life's  autumn  time — 
verging  well  on  toward  the  winter  —  whose  early 
snows  that  never  melt,  have  already  fallen  on  their 
heads — in  their  autumn  time  of  reward  and  enjoyment. 
You  have  labored  faithfully  for  your  master,  and  now 
he  is  rewarding  you.  You  are  in  the  Beulah  Land  of 
rest  and  foretaste.  You  are  veterans  in  His  service 
who  have  fought  and  almost  won.  Battles  have  been 
many,  but  God  has  brought  you  through  them  all. 
Trials  have  marked  your  pathway,  but  God  has  sanc 
tified  them  to  you  and  purified  you  by  them.  His  hand 
has  held  every  cross.  His  love  and  wisdom  has  dic 
tated,  or  permitted,  every  trial.  Deep  waters  have 
not  overflowed  you.  Many  sorrows  have  subdued  and 
sanctified  your  spirits,  and  you  are  only  watching  and 
waiting  on  the  further  shore  of  life  for  the  mystic 
passage  across  the  tide.  We  who  are  younger  take 
courage  by  your  example,  and  thank  God  for  a  sanc 
tified  old  age,  and  its  beautiful  lessons  of  victory  and 
trust.  We  repeat  with  reverence,  as  we  stand  in  the 
presence  of  you  who  are  in  the  autumn-time  of  life, 
"The  hoary  head  is  a  crown  of  glory,  if  it  be  found 
in  the  way  of  righteousness." 

As  with  the  Jews  with  their  "feast  of  ingathering," 
so  with  us ;  today  is  the  great  household  festival  of  the 
year.  All  over  the  land  today,  great  numbers  of  fami 
lies  will  go  out  from  the  cities  to  the  old  home  in  the 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  83 

country,  or  come  to  the  town-home  of  some  favorite 
son  or  daughter.  The  little  ones  will  be  there  of 
course,  but  it  is  chiefly  "the  old  boys  and  girls," 
whose  age  is  multiplying  upon  their  frosty  heads,  but 
whose  hearts  are  young  nevertheless — it  is  chieflly 
those  who  will  be  in  their  glory. 

How  the  domestic  graces  will  be  cultivated  at 
these  family  gatherings.  How  the  old  affections  will 
be  revived!  How  this  festival  mingles  religion  with 
our  best  home  sympathies.  Gather  around  the  old 
fireside!  Talk  over  old  times  and  new  times.  Give 
your  opinions  of  things  and  listen  to  what  the  old  folks 
say,  if  they  are  with  you  yet,  even  though  they  should 
criticise  some  of  our  new  fashions  somewhat.  It  is 
just  possible  that,  with  all  our  progress,  in  some 
things,  they  are  nearer  right  than  we  are. 

Cultivate  family  love  now!  Reconcile  family 
jars ! 

I  would  not  trust  the  man,  who,  without  awful 
cause,  suffers  himself  to  remain  estranged  from  those 
brothers  of  his,  who  in  childhood  slept  with  him  in  the 
room  upstairs,  under  the  rafters  next  the  sky,  and 
heard  in  the  winter  frost,  as  each  told  his  stories  be 
fore  going  to  sleep,  the  weird  crackling  of  the  beams 
overhead.  I  do  not  see  how  he  could  hope  that  the 
starlight,  shinging  on  the  other  side  of  the  roof,  could 
ever  shine  upon  him  again  in  benediction. 

And  as  for  casting  off  a  child,  no  matter  how  bad 
it  became,  I  would  follow  it  in  its  lowest  fall,  and  up 
against  the  back-door  of  hell,  before  I  would  do  that. 


84  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

God  gives  men  these  sensibilities,  and  woe  to  him  that 
hurts  his  noblest  nature  in  checking  them !  Let  us  get 
together,  if  we  can,  and  keep  together —  God  willing — • 
for  many  and  many  a  faithful,  fond  year  yet ! 

As  we  celebrate  our  "feast  of  Tabernacles"  today, 
some  hearts  and  some  households  will  be  filled  with 
conflicting  emotions.  There  is  a  feeling  of  sadness  as 
we  think  of  the  changes  which  have  taken  place  with 
in  the  year.  Old  associations  have  been  broken  into  by 
death.  Some  that  have  mingled  with  us  in  many  such 
annual  reunions,  today  are  absent  from  us,  and  on  the 
other  shore,  waiting  for  a  better  reunion.  Softly  and 
tenderly  be  their  names  whispered  in  our  heart  of 
hearts,  who  have  gone  to  dwell  with  the  immortals, 
beyond  the  flood  of  years.  "Good  bye"  is  one  of  the 
saddest  of  words,  spoken  across  a  chasm  of  days 
or  months,  but  there  are  some  here  who  have  spoken 
it  across  that  wider  chasm  which  separates  time  and 
eternity.  Let  us  be  thankful  that  it  is  not  spoken  for 
ever. 

Our  departed  came,  with  us,  out  from  the  bosom 
of  God,  the  source  of  all  life.  By  disease  or  slow  decay, 
by  accident,  or  sudden  death,  when  it  was  better,  He 
removed  them  higher  to  Himself,  in  some  other  sphere 
of  being.  We  cannot  understand  it — we  do  not  need 
to,  or  He  would  have  told  us.  But  since  He  is  good, 
and  rules  the  universe  for  good,  we  doubt  not  it  was 
for  the  best.  Just  what  is  before  us,  where  they  have 
gone,  we  know  not,  but  we  trust  and  follow  on. 

Just  how  it  is  with  them  yonder  we  know  not,  but 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  85 

we  have  all  faith  that  the  Infinite  love  which  was  over 
them  here  is  over  them  still,  and  that  as  God  led  them 
the  best  way  here,  so  He  will  there,  for  He  is  the  same 
in  all  worlds. 

"And  nothing  walks  with  aimless  feet ; — 
And  not  one  life  shall  be  destroyed 
Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void, 
When  God  has  made  the  pile  complete." 

And  some  day,  when  God  sees  it  is  best,  we  will  go 
and  be  with  them  again.  It  is  a  very  frail  and  thin 
curtain  that  divides  us  from  them.  Perhaps  even  now 
invisible  fingers  are  drawing  it  aside,  that  some  of  us 
may  pass  within. 

So  we  all  celebrate  our  Thanksgiving  with  joy: 
for  life  and  its  attendant  blessings;  for  a  Christian 
land;  for  health  and  the  comforts  of  home;  for  pros 
perity  and  the  blessings  of  friendship  and  love;  for 
pleasant  reunions  with  old  friends;  for  the  grace  of 
the  spirit  given  to  us  under  temptation;  for  all  the 
promises  of  God  which  have  failed  not  in  affliction 
and  bereavement;  and  for  the  good  hope  of  a  better 
life  to  come. 

The  leaves  in  this  autumn  time  have  drooped 
and  died,  not  because  the  life  of  the  trees  is  ceasing, 
but  because  it  is  getting  ready  for  another  spring.  This 
feast  of  Tabernacles  tells  us  of  an  eternal  feast  be 
yond.  As  we  look  thither,  our  hearts  swell  with  hope 
and  emotion.  No  enclosed  garden,  or  circumscribed 


86  The  Feast  of  Ingathering 

forest,  or  lake,  can  uplift  and  enlarge  the  soul  like  the 
onreaching  stretch  of  the  mighty  ocean,  or  the  bound 
less  plain.  No  view  of  even  the  greatest  possible  good 
in  the  earthly  years  to  come,  will  surcharge  the  soul 
with  feeling  like  the  thought  of  the  future  life. 

Today,  we  look  beyond  the  material,  beyond  the 
finite,  beyond  this  earthly  prison-house.  "We  know 
that  if  our  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  were  dis 
solved,  we  have  a  building  of  God,  a  house  not  made 
with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens."  Toward  that 
eternal  dwelling  place  of  the  soul,  our  minds'  imagin 
ings  sometimes  go  out  with  strong  desires. 


"The  City's  shining  towers  we  may  not  see, 
With  our  dim,  earthly  vision, 
For  death,  the  silent  warder,  keeps  the  key, 
That  opes  those  gates  Elysian." 


"But  sometimes,  when  adown  the  western  sky, 
The  fiery  sunset  lingers, 
The  Golden  gates  swing  inward  noiselessly, 
Unlocked  by  silent  fingers." 


"And  while  they  stand  a  moment  half  ajar, 
Gleams  from  the  inner  glory 
Stream  brightly  through  the  azure  vault  afar, 
And  half  reveal  the  story." 


The  Feast  of  Ingathering  87 

God  help  us  all  to  reach  that  better  land — that 
"land  of  untrodden  distances" — the  "land  that  to  the 
flesh  is  very  far  off"  but  to  the  spirit  very  near.  And 
there,  when  time  has  gathered  its  ripe  fruits  and 
poured  them  into  the  lap  of  eternity — when  earth  has 
garnered  its  harvests  in  the  granary  of  heaven — there, 
at  that  "feast  of  Tabernacles,"  the  everlasting  "festival 
of  Ingathering" — the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb — 
we  shall  hold  Thanksgiving  forever. 


The  Mediation  of  Character  Between 
Learning  and  Life. 


i. 

It  is,  I  suppose,  the  theory  of  an  Alumni  Address, 
that  a  class  which  has  been  out  in  the  world  twenty 
years  trying  its  ideas,  ought  by  this  time  to  have  learn 
ed  something  worth  saying  to  young  men.  I  accept 
this  theory;  and  propose  as  a  thought  of  value,  The 
Mediation  of  Character  between  Learning  and  Life. 

II. 

One  word  preliminary, — which  is  also  a  word  of 
encouragement.  We  have  learned  that  College  studies 
are  "practical."  About  this  time  in  the  year,  look  for 
such  advice  as  the  following  to  College  Graduates, 
which  I  condense  from  a  late  number  of  the  Milwaukee 
Journal :  "You  are  now  going  into  work  you  know 
nothing  about.  Burn  your  diplomas;  they  are  of  no 
more  value  than  last  year's  almanacs.  Forget  all  you? 
have  learned  in  College  as  soon  as  you  can ;  it  is  only 
an  expensive  fertilizer  applied  to  your  brains  to  get 
them  ready  to  receive  the  seeds  of  practical  knowl 
edge." 

Now,  in  the  name  of  the  Class  of  '70,  I  wish  to 
brand  all  that  sort  of  stuff  as  unmitigated  bosh.  We 
got  our  Mathematics  yonder;  we  have  found  them 


90  The  Mediation  of  Character 

practical;  we  have  not  had  to  forget  them.  We  got 
our  Science  there,  and  our  Language,  and  our  Ethics, 
and  they  have  staid  with  us;  our  only  regret  is  that 
we  did  not  get  more.  These  things  have  been  our 
foundations;  a  little  more  widely  built  out  afterward, 
perhaps,  and  somewhat  higher  up,  I  trust,  but  still,  the 
bases  upon  which  we  have  wrought,  no  more  to  be  re 
moved  from  us  than  a  man  can  travel  away  from  him 
self. 

Mr.  Andrew  Carnegie  has  also  lately  been  giving 
a  great  deal  of  comfort  to  callow  thinkers  by  saying 
that  he  was  "unable  to  see  that  College  men  had  any 
influence  in  affairs."  Perhaps  Mr.  Carnegie  does  not 
look  upon  the  business  of  governing  the  country  as  an 
affair  of  any  importance.  But  in  1888,  Senator  Ingalls 
pointed  out  that  thirty  out  of  seventy-six  senators  had 
received  a  classical  education;  and  one  hundred  and 
eight,  out  of  three  hundred  and  thirty-three  represen 
tatives  and  delegates.  In  other  words ;  about  two  hun 
dred  thousand  men  out  of  sixty-six  million  have  fur 
nished  one-third  of  the  house  and  half  of  the  senate  of 
the  nation. 

III. 

No,  young  Gentlemen,  your  studies  are  not  un 
practical  ;  and  they  do  not  unfit  you  for  real  life.  But 
the  question  now  is :  By  what  means  shall  you  make 
what  you  know  most  available  in  every-day  affairs? 
For  there  is,  after  all,  a  popular  idea,  which  is  pretty 
well  founded,  and  which  is  related  to  the  notion  just 


The  Mediation  of  Character  91 

quoted  from  the  newspaper  and  from  Mr.  Carnegie, 
that  there  is  naturally  a  kind  of  distance  between 
learning  and  life.  The  two  may  not  always  have 
been  thus  apart.  The  Hebrew  tradition  seems  to 
teach  that  there  was  a  time  primeval  when  knowl 
edge  sprang  up  spontaneously  within  the  bosoms 
of  men,  in  the  midst  of  affairs,  according  to  their 
needs,  without  study,  as  when  Adam  instinctively 
named  the  beasts  according  to  their  nature.  But 
if  this  were  true  once,  it  is  so  no  longer.  Learning  and 
life  are  now  separate  from  each  other,  as  Calpe  and 
Abyla,  the  twin  Pillars  of  Hercules  at  the  entrance  of 
the  Mediterranean. 

"They  stand  aloof,  the  scars  remaining, 

Like  cliffs  which  have  been  rent  asunder; 

A  dreary  sea  now  flows  between. 

But  neither  heat,  nor  frost,  nor  thunder, 

Shall  wholly  do  away,  I  ween, 
The  marks  of  that  which  once  hath  been." 

And,  although  parted  by  the  sounding  strait,  they 
feel  the  ground  continuous  beneath  them;  they  know 
their  former  relationship.  Therefore  it  is  the  practic 
al  problem  of  our  lives,  as  College  men,  to  bring  them 
together  again.  And  the  method  by  which  we  are  to 
do  this,  the  way  in  which  we  are  to  make  our  acquire 
ments  most  practically  valuable,  is  by  uniting  knowl 
edge  with  characters  of  manliness  and  rectitude,  of 
high  devotion  to  Truth  and  Justice.  Thus  will  we 


The  Mediation  of  Character 

import  learning  into  life,  and  project  it  into  usefulness 
among  men  by  the  dynamic  influence  of  right  person 
ality.  Milton,  writing  of  Bradshaw,  that  upright,  con 
scientious  and  heroic  Republican  who  presided  over 
the  court  which  tried  Charles  I,  says:  "John  Brad 
shaw  appears  like  a  consul,  from  whom  the  fasces  are 
not  to  depart  with  the  year;  so  that  not  in  the  tribunal 
only,  but  throughout  his  life,  you  would  regard  him  as 
sitting  in  judgment  upon  Kings." 

It  is  of  such  character  that  I  speak;  and  when  I 
set  forth  its  mediation  between  learning  and  life,  I 
am  not  vaunting  a  mere  fanciful  conceit.  Mediation  is 
everywhere  a  law  of  the  universe.  The  teacher  medi 
ates  knowledge  to  the  child.  The  actor  mediates  the 
play  to  the  audience.  Music  mediates  to  us  youth, 
and  hope,  and  love ;  books,  all  human  experience.  Na 
ture  is  the  mediator  to  us  of  all  material  good  things, 
as  was  recognized  by  the  Persians  when  they  named 
the  sun,  which  gives  us  light  and  heat  and  life,  Mith 
ras,  or,  The  Mediator.  And,  last  and  highest  of  all,  this 
law  of  mediation  is  carried  out  between  man  and  man, 
in  all  the  blessings  which  we  bestow  upon  each  other; 
and  between  man  and  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  the 
great  Mediator  of  every  spiritual  gift. 

IV. 

The  mediation  of  character  between  learning  and 
life:  What  is  character?  Novalis  said  it  was  "a  per 
fectly  educated  will."  And,  verily,  such  a  will  has 
power.  When  the  wife  of  Concini  was  asked  what 


The  Mediation  of  Character  93 

means  she  had  used  to  coerce  Mary  of  Medici,  her 
answer  was :  "Only  that  influence  which  every  strong 
will  has  over  a  weak  one."  Carlyle  goes  farther,  and 
teaches  that  character  is  heroism;  meaning,  by  hero 
ism,  sincerity;  and  he  therefore  exhorts  all  to  be 
heroes,  since  all  can  be  sincere.  Luther,  he  says,  was 
"a  true  hero,"  because  he  was  a  sincere  "son  of  nature 
and  of  fact."  And  Carlyle  shows  us  that  the  reason 
we  feel  one  man's  presence,  and  do  not  feel  another's, 
is  simple  enough:  "Truth  is  the  summit  of  being: 
Justice  is  the  application  of  it  to  affairs ;  and  all  indi 
vidual  natures  stand  upon  a  scale  and  influence  us 
according  to  the  purity  of  these  elements  in  them." 
Less  particular,  but  still  more  largely  inclusive,  is 
Emerson's  definition  of  character:  "A  reserved  force, 
which  acts  directly  by  presence  and  without  means." 
Johnson  said  of  Burke:  "If  a  man  were  to  go  by 
chance  at  the  same  time  with  Burke  under  a  shed  to 
shun  a  shower,  he  would  say,  'this  is  an  extraordinary 
man.'  If  Burke  should  go  into  a  stable  to  see  his 
horse  dressed,  the  ostler  would  say,  'we  have  had  an 
extraordinary  man  here.'  But  if  Foote  had  gone  into 
the  stable,  the  ostler  would  have  said,  'here  has  been 
a  comical  fellow,'  but  he  would  not  have  respected 
him."  Such  men  as  Burke  conquer  us  by  force  of 
superior  personality,  and  not  by  mere  eloquence  or 
arms.  We  recognize  their  quality  without  requiring 
proof,  even  as  the  Greeks  said  the  higher  gods  could 
be  known  under  all  disguises.  "O,  lole,  how  did  you 
know  that  Hercules  was  a  God?"  "Because,"  answer- 


94  The  Mediation  of  Character 

ed  lole,  "I  was  content  the  moment  my  eyes  fell  upon 
him.  When  I  beheld  Theseus,  I  desired  that  I  might 
see  him  offer  battle,  or  at  least  guide  his  horses  in  a 
chariot-race;  but  Hercules  did  not  wait  for  a  contest; 
he  conquered  whether  he  stood,  or  walked,  or  sat,  or 
whatever  thing  he  did."  There  is  nobility  in  the  voice 
of  right  character.  Plato  said  it  was  "impossible  not 
to  believe  in  the  children  of  the  divinities,  although 
they  spoke  without  probable  or  necessary  arguments." 
There  is  an  ethical  character  in  their  form  and  gait. 
When  the  Eastern  sage  would  test  the  merit  of  Zara- 
thustra,  he  looked  upon  his  approach  and  at  once  cried 
out :  "This  form  and  this  gait  cannot  lie,  and  nothing 
but  truth  can  proceed  from  them."  But  beyond  speech, 
and  form  and  gait,  charater  is  an  incomputable  force 
which  we  can  feel,  but  not  describe,  and  which  to  at 
tempt  to  define  is  like  trying  to  paint  the  lightnings 
with  charcoal.  Character  is  in  the  man ;  that  is  all  any 
one  can  tell  you  about  it.  Nay,  rather;  character  is 
the  man  himself;  see  him,  and  you  will  know  why  he 
succeeds,  as  easily  as  you  might  understand  the  vic 
tories  of  Napoleon  by  looking  upon  him.  His  triumph 
rests  mathematically  upon  his  substance;  upon  his 
quality  and  his  quantity. 

V. 

It  comes  to  this,  then;  that,  in  order  to  proper 
influence  of  learning  upon  life,  a  man  must  be  greater 
than  that  which  he  knows.  This  is  what  Theremin 
means  by  saying  that  eloquence  is  virtue ;  and  Cicero, 
by  declaring  it  is  beauty  of  mind. 


The  Mediation  of  Character  95 

Look  at  the  miserable  failure  of  a  man  who  was 
absolutely  enormous  in  his  knowledge,  and  yet  had 
neither  virtue  of  character  nor  beauty  of  mind — I  refer 
to  Lord  Bacon.  You  remember  his  Essays,  his  In- 
stauratio,  his  Novum  Organum,  his  writings  on 
English  Law,  his  whole  enormous  philosophic  labors 
— all  that  vast  erudition  which  made  him  not  the  star, 
but  the  risen  sun  in  its  strength,  shining  its  splendors 
from  mid-heaven  upon  the  closing  age  of  the  great 
Elizabeth.  You  have  read  also  the  titles  of  his  civil 
dignities,  the  rounds  up  which  he  climbed  the  ladder 
of  fame  to  a  place  only  below  the  King:  Member  of 
the  House  of  Commons,  Knight,  King's  Counsel,  So 
licitor  General,  Attorney  General,  Privy  Counselor, 
Lord  Keeper  of  the  Seal,  Lord  High  Chancelor  Baron 
Verulam,  and  Viscount  of  St.  Albans.  But  you  know 
that  other  wretched  record;  how  he  ungratefully 
turned  upon  the  Earl  of  Essex,  his  friend  and  bene 
factor,  and  hunted  him  to  his  death — and  after  death; 
how  he  racked  the  aged  and  venerable  clergyman, 
Peacham ;  trying — for  the  last  time  in  a  British  court — 
to  torture  from  him  an  admission  of  treason,  of  which 
Bacon  knew  he  was  innocent;  how,  at  last,  he  wrote 
with  his  own  hand  twenty-three  separate  instances  in 
which,  as  judge,  he  had  taken  bribes  to  pervert  English 
justice ;  and  how  he  was  degraded  and  sentenced  for 
his  intolerable  corruption.  And  then  you  recall  Pope's 
terrific  couplet  on  him,  impaling  and  holding  up  to 
scorn  forever  mere  intellectual  greatness  without  cor 
responding  moral  dignity: 


96  The  Mediation  of  Character 

"If  parts  allure  thee,  think  how  Bacon  shined, 
The  wisest,  brightest,  meanest  of  mankind." 

The  magnitude  of  his  knowledge  but  lent  weight 
and  swiftness  to  his  fall ;  it  was  the  millstone  about  his 
neck  that  drowned  him  in  the  depths  of  the  sea.  And 
it  was  from  this  same  lack  of  moral  greatness  of  char 
acter  that  Danial  Webster,  the  great  expounder,  be 
came  the  great  compounder.  Ah,  young  gentlemen, 
what  we  are,  is  of  more  significance  than  what  we 
know! 

VI. 

A  person  must  be  greater  even  than  what  he  does. 
The  impression  which  all  really  great  men  make  upon 
us  is  that  they  are  larger  than  their  deeds  of  which  we 
are  told.  There  is  not  enough  in  the  recorded  acts  of 
Washington  to  account  for  his  influence  upon  his  time. 
What  Carlyle  tells  us  of  Mirabeau,  in  his  History  of 
the  French  Revolution,  does  not  justify  his  estimate 
of  the  great  orator's  genius;  there  was  something 
about  Mirabeau  that  could  not  be  put  into  history. 
Riemer,  the  biographer  of  Goethe,  tells  of  the  benevo 
lence  of  Goethe's  character;  and  then,  in  proof,  brings 
forward  a  list  of  his  benefactions — so  much  money  to 
this  one,  so  many  good  deeds  to  that.  Germany 
laughed  at  Riemer,  for  it  felt  that  Goethe's  benevo 
lence  could  not  be  measured  in  that  thumb-and-span 
way ;  his  nature  was  .larger  than  his  gifts  were,  or 
could  be — as  all  true  benevolence  is.  But  let  a  small 


The  Mediation  of  Character  97 

person  try  to  do  a  large  deed ;  he  does  not  measure  up 
to  it.  It  bankrupts  him,  and  we  see  that  he  is  inade 
quate  to  the  performance.  Or  let  him  try  to  say  a 
great  thing;  the  execution  is  worse  at  the  breech  of  the 
gun  than  at  the  muzzle;  there  is  not  propulsive  force 
enough  in  the  man  to  send  the  word  clear  of  him. 

VII. 

If  you  want  to  move  men,  bring  them  into  touch 
with  a  great  personality.  You  recollect  that  medieval 
legend  of  the  discovery  of  the  True  Cross  in  the  time 
of  the  Empress  Helena.  Her  searchers  unearthed  three 
crosses  upon  Mount  Calvary;  how  should  they  know 
our  Saviour's?  They  brought  a  corpse,  and  stretched 
it  upon  the  first,  and  then  upon  the  second;  but  still 
no  pulse  started  in  the  wrist  and  no  flush  kindled  in  its 
cheek.  But  now  they  laid  it  upon  the  third;  and  at 
once  the  pulse  began  to  flutter,  the  blood  mounted  to 
the  cheek,  and  they  knew  they  had  found  the  True 
Cross,  because  life  had  come  out  of  it.  The  story  is 
but  the  invention  of  a  too  credulous  age,  and  yet  there 
is  in  it  the  suggestion  of  truth.  Bring  a  dead  soul,  a 
dead  nation,  into  contact  with  a  mighty  personality, 
and  it  will  start  into  life  and  power.  Yonder  is  ancient 
Israel,  educated  through  her  misery  in  the  college  of 
her  wrongs,  but  apathetic  under  her  woes,  until  she  is 
touched  by  the  flaming  spirit  of  Moses.  Then  she 
arises  and  marches  through  the  Red  Sea  and  howling 
wilderness  to  her  Canaan.  There  are  the  scattered 
tribes  of  the  desert,  holding  in  common  the  doctrine  of 


98  The  Mediation  of  Character 

the  one  God.  But  they  are  uninspired  by  it  until  Mo 
hammed  comes.  His  zeal  enkindles  theirs,  and  they 
carry  their  conquering  crescent  westward,  until  it  is 
placed  upon  the  spires  of  Cordova  and  lights  up  half 
of  continental  Europe.  Or  again,  see  all  Europe,  com 
pelled  by  the  personality  of  Peter  the  Hermit,  rushing 
headlong  to  the  land  of  the  Saracen  to  rescue  the  Holy 
Sepulcher.  General  Garfield  said  that  to  have  Presi 
dent  Mark  Hopkins  on  one  end  of  a  log  in  the  woods, 
and  a  boy  on  the  other,  was  equivalent  to  a  university 
course.  Of  one  of  our  college  presidents,  an  acute  ob 
server  remarked  to  me  not  long  since :  "It  is  a  liberal 
education  to  have  a  boy  under  that  man's  shadow  for 
four  years." 

VIII. 

It  really  matters  little  what  dogma  a  man  holds  if 
he  manifest  a  right  character.  John  Wesley  teaches 
absolute  Free  Will;  and  John  Calvin,  absolute  Divine 
Sovereignty.  Their  doctrines  are  perfectly  irrecon 
cilable  ;  but  both  Wesley  and  Calvin  alike  are  uplifting 
men.  Ignatius  Loyola,  the  Catholic,  and  Martin 
Luther,  the  Protestant,  preach  squarely  into  each 
other's  teeth ;  but  each  puts  a  leverage  under  the  age 
that  elevates  it.  Yonder  in  New  England  was  Theo 
dore  Parker ;  discarding  Revelation  for  his  intuition  of 
the  Divine,  of  the  just  and  right,  and  of  the  immortal ; 
teaching  a  system  of  doctrine  like  nothing  that  has 
been  seen  before  or  since  in  the  heavens,  or  earth,  or 
waters  under  the  earth ;  and  yet  a  man  of  moral  recti- 


The  Mediation  of  Character  99 

tude  and  earnestness;  "courageous  and  ever  ready  to 
defend  the  weak  against  the  strong,  and  to  run  to  the 
rescue  of  suffering  humanity,"  as  McCosh  says;  and 
therefore  a  savor  of  life  unto  all  with  whom  he  came 
in  contact.  And  there,  too,  was  William  Ellery  Chan- 
ning;  utterly  unorthodox  according  to  "my  doxy;" 
careless  of  the  scholastic  theology;  unable  to 

"      *      *      *     distinguish  and  divide 

A  hair,  'twixt  south  and  south-west  side." 

But  he  so  stood  for  the  slave  when  chicken- 
hearted  evangelicals  trembled  and  hid,  he  so  shined 
forth  in  the  brightness  of  a  noble  character  in  all  his 
life,  that  he  raised  the  Christian  temperature  and  con 
sciousness  of  half  a  continent. 

I  heard  a  great  preacher  in  revival  meetings  last 
winter.  He  crossed  almost  every  line  of  our  traditional 
evangelical  doctrine  in  his  sermon ;  and  yet,  at  its  close, 
forty  men  sprang  to  their  feet  in  response  to  his  appeal 
to  them  to  live  a  better  life,  moved  thereto  by  the  bet 
ter  life  before  them. 

Will  you  tell  me  wherein  has  consisted  the  pe 
culiar  power  of  Jesus  Christ  upon  men?  It  is  not 
especially  in  His  words ;  you  can  duplicate  nearly  all 
He  said  from  other  and  earlier  sources ;  and  as  for  re 
ducing  it  to  a  great  intellectual  system,  you  may  all 
but  print  it  upon  the  fly  leaves  of  one  of  your  cate 
chisms.  His  power  dwelt  in  what  He  was,  rather  than 
in  what  he  said.  "And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up" — not  my 


100  The  Mediation  of  Character 

teaching  first  of  all;  not  my  system,  pre-eminently — 
"And  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  Me." 
And  therefore  it  is,  as  Richter  declares,  that  the  nail- 
pierced  hands  of  him  who  hung  on  Calvary  have  lifted 
the  kingdoms  from  their  hinges  and  turned  aside  the 
stream  of  centuries  from  its  course.  It  is  of  him  that 
Emerson  (to  whom  I  am  much  indebted  in  this  ad 
dress)  writes:  "The  history  of  those  gods  and  saints 
which  the  world  has  written  and  then  worshipped,  are 
documents  of  character.  The  ages  have  exulted  in 
the  manners  of  a  youth  who  was  hanged  at  the  Tyburn 
of  his  nation,  who,  by  the  pure  quality  of  his  nature, 
shed  an  epic  splendor  around  the  facts  of  his  death, 
which  has  transfigured  every  particular  into  a  uni 
versal  symbol  for  the  eyes  of  mankind."  And  I  think 
that  if  you  were  to  bring  and  place  here,  just  below 
Jesus,  the  great  religious  leaders  of  the  world — Moses, 
Buddah,  Confucius,  Zoroaster,  you  would  see  men  who, 
while  they  utterly  contradict  each  other  in  dogma, 
have  yet  uplifted  mankind  by  the  force  of  true  charac 
ter.  You  might  even  set  in  the  eye  of  men  a  person  of 
such  mental  idiosyncrasy  that,  if  possible,  he  should  hold 
that  2  plus  2  equals  20,000;  and  yet  with  due  moral 
greatness,  he  would  move  the  world  unto  himself  and 
bold  it  there,  as  gravitation  binds  the  stars  upon  the 
bosom  of  God. 

IX. 

This  is  not  belittling  correct  belief.     If  we  were 
asked  to  account  for  the  true  character  of  certain  of 


The  Mediation  ot  Character  101 

these  men  who  held  false  doctrines,  we  might  say  that 
men  are  hardly  ever  logical  beings ;  and  that,  there 
fore,  the  heart  may  be  all  right  and  the  head  all  wrong; 
but  a  larger  and  better  way  would  be  to  say  that  the 
great  Spirit  of  all  truth  surrounds  us  on  every  side,  and 
finds  inlets  into  honest  souls  through  many  a  way  be 
side  clear  intellectual  perception.  Of  all  the  mistakes 
that  flit  like  poisonous  flies  around  the  head  of  "Star- 
eyed  Science,"  there  is  none  worse  than  to  suppose 
that  knowing  and  feeling  and  willing  can  be  separated, 
and  that  we  can  obtain  knowledge  by  the  dry  light  of 
discursive  thought  alone.  Even  ministers,  whose 
business  it  is  to  know  better,  sometimes  fall  into  this 
error.  A  distinguished  Boston  preacher  some  years 
ago  said:  "If  I  could  present  truth  as  clearly  as  the 
Holy  Spirit,  I  could  convert  souls  as  easily  as  He." 
It  is  not  true.  Man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone,  and 
he  does  not  know  by  brain  alone.  Knowledge  comes  in 
by  the  instincts,  by  the  sympathies,  by  the  desires,  by 
a  kind  of  endosmose  and  exosmose  through  every  pore 
of  our  spiritual  being.  The  human  soul  it  not  a  shut 
building,  with  only  one  entrance  and  that  a  skylight; 
it  is  a  vast  cathedral,  with  many  windows  of  stained 
glass ;  and  through  each,  truth  pours,  being  colored  ac 
cording  to  the  place  of  entrance.  A  man's  mind  is  not 
to  be  separated  into  several  different  sections,  and 
such  a  process  allotted  to  this;  and  such,  to  that. 
Rather,  like  Milton's  Spirits,  that 


102  The  Mediation  of  Character 

*     *        cannot  but  by  annihilating  die, 

***** 

"All  heart  we  live,  all  head,  all  eye,  all  ear, 
All  intellect,  all  sense." 

I  would  rather  trust  the  instinct  of  a  pure  woman 
to  teach  me  what  is  pure,  than  a  Socrates,  sitting  at  the 
feet  of  Aspasia.  I  would  rather  rely  upon  the  heart  of 
a  saved  spirit  in  Heaven  to  tell  me  what  is  holy,  than 
all  the  intellects  of  earth.  Men  do  not  believe  in  God 
because  He  is  the  outcome  of  a  syllogism,  but  because 
He  is  the  satisfaction  of  the  soul's  hunger;  and  one 
process  brings  just  as  legitimate  knowledge  as  the 
other.  It  is  the  miserable  mistake  of  a  mole-eyed 
philosophy,  that  has  just  now  burrowed  up  into  the 
sunlight,  out  of  the  ages  of  a  defunct  paganism,  to  in 
sist  that  true  knowledge  can  be  acquired  only  in  the 
complete  isolation  of  the  intellectual  process  from  all 
feeling,  volition,  and  choice,  and  so,  to  exalt  the  specu 
lative  intellect  at  the  expense  of  the  moral,  the  aesthetic, 
the  religious,  and  the  practical,  in  man.  Into  all  sin 
cere  and  honest  souls,  the  great  God  himself  comes. 
Through  them  He  shines  out.  All  such  spirits  may 
say — whatever  their  intellectual  creed, 

"There  is  an  inward  center  in  us  all 

Where  truth  abides  in  fulness;  and  to  know 

Rather  consists  in  opening  out  a  way 

Whence  the  imprisoned  splendor  may  escape, 

Than  in  effecting  entrance  for  a  light, 
Supposed  to  be  without." 


The  Mediation  of  Character  103 

The  intellectual  creed  has  neither  made  the  man, 
nor  is  it  the  full  exponent  of  what  a  man  is,  nor  even 
of  what  he  believes.  He  really  believes  what  he  is; 
and  what  he  is,  shows  forth  in  his  character,  and  has 
been  derived  from  a  hundred  sources. 

X. 

So  my  report  to  you,  young  gentlemen,  is,  that 
you  will  yet  find  the  plain,  old-fashioned  virtues  of 
common  rectitude  quoted  at  par  in  the  world's  market. 
It  is  a  splendid  generalization  of  modern  science  that 
all  the  forces  which  move  onward  the  physical  universe 
are,  in  their  last  analysis,  spirit  forces.  Physical 
causation  is  the  will,  physical  law  is  the  habit  of  God. 
It  is  an  equally  magnificent  generalization  that  all  the 
workings  of  this  universal  will  are  to  the  one  end  of 
righteousness  among  men.  Janet,  for  example,  in  his 
epoch-making  work  on  "Final  Causes,"  does  but  adopt 
the  conclusion  of  every  respectable  school  of  modern 
thought  when  he  declares  that  the  great  purpose  in 
nature  is  morality.  And  society  does,  more  and  more, 
either  consciously  or  unconsciously  fall  in  with  this 
tendency,  and  goes  forward  in  the  groove  which  has 
been  made  for  it  by  the  Author  of  all  things.  The 
strongest  forces  that  operate  in  its  bosom  are  moral 
forces,  evoked  from  the  deep  profound  of  man's 
spiritual  nature,  and  moving  on  ever  toward  righteous 
ness.  I  know  that  among  a  certain  clique  of  babblers  at 
this  time  there  is  much  uncertainty  what  the  real  bases 
and  sanctions  of  this  righteousness  shall  be;  and  so, 


104  The  Mediation  of  Character 

great  doubt  as  to  whether  there  is  any  other  righteous 
ness  than  mere  conventional  utility.  They  have  struck 
at  the  old  basis,  that  of  revealed  religion ;  and  in  deny 
ing  the  validity  of  our  knowledge  of  God,  they  have 
also  torn  away  the  foundations  of  any  knowledge 
whatever.  Therefore,  frightened  by  the  confusion 
wrought  within  their  own  minds,  they  are  groping 
about  in  a  pitiful  condition  of  uncertainty  as  to  what 
they  shall  believe,  or  teach.  Matthew  Arnold  is  the 
Jeremiah  of  this  small  agnostic  clique  whose  noise, 
like  that  of  the  prarie  wolves  of  the  west,  is  much 
greater  than  we  could  expect  from  their  numbers.  He 
comes  to  the  old  Monastery  of  La  Chartreuse.  He 
views  its  monks  as  the  relics  of  a  supernatural  faith 
that  is  dead,  and  himself  as  the  despised  prophet  of 
something  yet  to  come — he  cannot  undertake  to  say 
what,  and  thus  he  utters  his  lachrymose  complaint : 

"Wandering  between  two  worlds,  one  dead, 
The  other  powerless  to  be  born, 

With  nowhere  yet  to  rest  my  head, 

Like  these  on  earth  I  wait  forlorn. 

Their  faith,  my  tears  the  world  deride ; 
I  come  to  shed  them  at  their  side." 

"Achilles  ponders  in  his  tent; 

The  kings  of  modern  thought  are  dumb; 
Silent  they  are,  though  not  content, 

And  wait  to  see  the  future  come. 
They  have  the  grief  men  had  of  yore, 

But  they  contend  and  cry  no  more." 


The  Mediation  of  Character  105 

But  I  have  to  pronounce  this  story  that  the  old 
foundations  of  the  faith  are  gone  all  a  fa^lse  alarm. 
The  true  Achilles — he  of  theistic  faith  unshaken — is 
not  pondering  in  his  tent;  he  is  out  on  the  field  of 
battle,  brandishing  his  victorious  weapons,  and  making 
all  the  shore  resound  as  never  before  with  his  trium 
phant  shouts.  It  is  the  agnostic  Hector  who  is  doing 
the  pondering  just  now;  for  he  realizes  that  he  has  re 
ceived  his  death  stroke  at  the  hands  of  Achilles,  and  is 
about  to  be  dragged  by  the  heels  around  the  walls  of 
Troy.  The  real  kings  of  modern  thought  are  not 
dumb.  Upon  the  contrary,  any  intelligent  survey  of 
the  situation  for  several  years  past  will  convince  one 
it  is  only  a  set  of  pretended  kings  that  are  dumb ;  and 
their  mouths  are  shut,  except  to  groans,  because  the 
real  kings  have  discredited  their  pretensions,  and  have 
shown  the  trustworthiness  of  the  old  knowledge,  and 
the  old  revelation,  and  the  old  righteousness,  by  which 
the  world  is  running  and  will  continue  to  run.  The 
great  masters  in  philosophy  in  Europe  and  America 
are  not  of  Arnold's  despondent  mood.  They  are  still 
living  by  those 

"      *      *      *      Truths  that  wake 
To  perish  never,"         *         *         * 

and  which,  despite  the  lament  of  a  half-hearted,  super 
ficial,  temporary  fashion  in  thought, 

"Are  yet  the  fountain  light  of  all  our  day, 

Are  yet  the  master  light  of  all  our  seeing." 


1%  The  Meditaion  of  Character 

Therefore  I  say  unto  you :  "Strengthen  ye  the 
weak  hands,  and  confirm  the  feeble  knees.  Say  to  them 
that  are  of  a  fearful  heart,  be  strong,  fear  not."  We 
young  men  sometimes  get  our  noses  down  into  our 
books,  and  almost  wonder  if  there  is  any  truth.  Such 
weak  doubts  need  not  long  exist.  It  so  happens  that 
my  home  is  seventeen  miles  inland  from  the  ocean. 
Sitting  shut  up  in  my  study,  I  might  in  sickly  mood 
persuade  myself  that  the  ocean  has  dried  up  into  a 
stagnant  pool.  But  when  I  go  down  to  the  seashore 
and  feel  the  thunderous  crashing  of  the  breakers  on 
the  beach,  or  when  I  ascend  the  Ramapo  Mountains 
just  back  of  the  city  where  I  dwell,  and  looking  east 
ward,  behold  the  Atlantic  still  rolling  onward  its  three 
thousand  miles  of  brine  against  the  Jersey  shore  as  it 
always  has  done  since  creation's  dawn,  I  realize  that 
the  "great  and  wide  sea"  is  there  yet.  And  so,  when 
our  souls  are  perplexed  by  the  jangle  of  vain  voices, 
or  our  brains  beclouded  with  the  fogs  that  will  some 
times  arise  from  overmuch  study,  when  we  doubt  if 
the  spiritual  verities  are  still  abiding,  let  us  go  down 
in  experience  to  where  we  can  feel  across  our  souls 
the  wash  of  billows  from  off  the  shores  of  the  unseen 
and  eternal ;  or,  ascending  the  heights  of  clearer 
thought,  above  the  mists  that  rise  within  the  troubled 
brain,  let  us  look  out ;  and  lo !  there  rolls  the  all-com 
prehending  ocean  still! 

"So  in  a  season  of  calm  weather, 
Though  inland  far  we  be, 


The  Mediation  of  Character  107 

Our  souls  catch  sight  of  the  immortal  sea 

Which  brought  us  hither, 
Can  in  a  moment  travel  thither, 

And  see  the  children  sport  upon  the  shore, 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore." 

Young  gentlemen,  believe  in  those  everlasting 
verities — the  everlasting  right,  the  everlasting  true, 
the  everlasting  good.  Trust  your  lives  to  them! 
Shape  your  characters  by  them!  Otherwise  you  will 
find  many  a  plain,  unlettered  man  walking  off  with  the 
world's  prizes  before  you,  because  he  has  gained  the 
world's  confidence.  For  what  we  want  in  our  leaders 
is  not,  first  of  all,  ability  and  learning,  but  the  power 
to  make  talents  and  acquirements  trusted.  In  the 
long  run,  men  will  appoint  no  one  to  represent  them, 
whom  God  has  not  already  appointed,  in  virtue  of  His 
sterling  worth,  to  stand  as  the  embodiment  of  truth 
and  righteousness. 

XL 

You  may  tell  me  that  genius  is  one  thing,  and 
rectitude  quite  another;  that  talent  is  able  to  make  its 
own  way  in  the  world;  that  it  is  a  law  unto  itself,  as 
Byron,  Shelley  and  Poe  thought ;  and  that  decency  and 
morality  will  do  for  common  people.  Yes ;  and  the  lo 
comotive  is  one  thing,  and  the  track  quite  another; 
but  if  the  locomotive  does  not  run  upon  the  track,  it 
will  go  to  smash !  Ability  is  one  thing,  and  morality  is 
quite  another;  but  if  ability  does  not  run  upon  the 


108  The  Mediation  of  Character 

track  of  morality,  it  will  go  to  smash,  as  Byron,  Shel 
ley  and  Poe  did!  And  it  ought  to  go  to  smash;  and 
thank  God,  for  the  world's  sake,  when  it  does !  If  a 
man  will  set  himself  in  opposition  to  the  welfare  of 
society,  and  take  arms  against  the  nature  of  things, 
and  dash  against  the  thick  bosses  of  the  buckler  of  the 
Almighty,  the  best  thing  the  universe  can  do  is  to 
turn  and  crush  him. 

There  is  a  great  picture  by  Jerome,  named  "Thirst." 
A  vast,  barren  desert  stretches  away  from  the  fore 
ground,  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  until  it  blends  with 
the  distant  horizon.  There  is  no  tree,  no  shrub,  nor 
any  green  thing.  Above  is  the  white  heat  of  the  quiver 
ing  air  and  the  brazen  sky.  In  the  front,  just  up 
against  the  spectator,  is  a  huge,  gaunt  lion,  lying  on 
the  sands  by  the  side  of  what  was  a  pool  of  water, 
but  is  now  dried  away  into  a  fetid  puddle  of  slime. 
That  lion  has  once  ravaged  the  desert  and  the  forest; 
at  his  roar  all  the  beasts  hid  themselves.  Now  he  lies 
there;  old,  toothless,  starving,  dying  of  thirst  by  that 
putrid  slough;  his  tongue  lolling  forth  and  licking  the 
foul  mud,  in  a  vain  effort  to  find  one  cooling  drop. 
Aesop's  ass  might  come  and  kick  at  him;  already  the 
desert  eagles  gather  to  his  death.  It  is  a  parable.  That 
dying  brute  is  but  the  symbol  of  those  animal  pas 
sions  and  forces,  which,  uncontrolled  by  the  moral 
nature,  sometimes  for  awhile  seem  to  bear  everything 
gentler  and  better  in  the  world  down  before  their 
roaring  onslaught.  But  at  last,  they  lie  prone  beside 
the  exhausted  pools  of  passion  which  the  heat  of  lust 


The  Mediation  of  Character  109 

has  burned  dry,  and  there  perish  in  misery;  calling, 
like  Dives  in  Hades,  for  one  drop  of  water  to  cool 
their  thirst.  That  is  the  fate  of  high  ability  dominated 
by  the  lower  nature.  It  dies  of  its  own  fever ;  men  are 
glad,  and  the  world  is  better  when  it  is  gone. 

XII. 

Here,  then,  in  Ihis  breach  between  learning  and 
life,  in  this  sounding  strait  between  Calpe  and  Abyla, 
we  college-bred  men  are  to  take  our  stand.  We  are 
not  simply  to  form  part  of  that  eternal  flow  of  duration 
and  events  which,  according  to  the  old  Greek  Sophists, 
endlessly  goes  on,  having  man  for  one  of  its  mo 
mentary  phenomena: 

"In  the  tides  of  life,  in  the  storms  of  motion, 
I  toss  up  and  down, 
I  wave  hither  and  thither, 
Birth  and  the  grave, 
An  eternal  ocean, 
A  waving  and  flowing." 

These  lives  of  ours  are  more  than  mere  transient 
apparations  of  The  All;  more  than  "little  breezes," 
which, 

*      *      *      dusk  and  shiver, 
Through  the  wave  that  runs  forever." 

No,  taught  by  our  intuition  of  an  abiding  person 
ality — which  is  God's  tuition,  we  may  know,  instead, 
that  we  remain,  separate  from  this  transitory  current. 


110  The  Mediation  of  Character 

"Yes;  in  the  Sea  of  Life  enisled, 

With  echoing  straits  between  us  thrown, 

Dotting  the  shoreless,  watery  wild, 
We  mortal  millions  live  alone. 

The  islands  feel  the  enclasping  flow, 

And  then  their  separate  bounds  they  know." 

And,  being  divided  by  personality  from  the  ever- 
flowing  tide  of  time  and  circumstance,  we  will  not  yield 
to  that  debasing  suggestion  of  materialism,  either,  that 
we  are  of  the  same  grade  of  being  as  the  mere  brute 
beasts,  dominated  by  forces  within  us  and  without, 
over  which  we  have  no  control.  In  the  consciousness 
of  free  will,  we  cry  with  the  great  dramatist: 

*        *        *        I'll  never 

Be  such  a  gosling  as  to  obey  mere  instinct,  but  stand, 
As  if  a  man  were  author  of  himself, 
And  knew  no  other  kin." 

Nay ;  even  among  the  throng  of  human  personali 
ties,  we  will  assert  ourselves  as  individuals : 

"One  soul  against  the  flesh  of  all  mankind." 

Here,  then,  I  say,  we  college  men  are  to  find  our 
position ;  by  right  character  interpreting  learning  into 
terms  of  life,  and  making  them  one. 

Thus,  as  we  have  seen,  we  do  but  fall  in  with  a 
great  law  of  the  universe,  the  law  of  mediation,  which 
runs  through  monads  up  to  men,  and  on  through 
Jesus  up  to  God.  We  employ  that  incalculable  force 
which  resides  in  just  personality;  which  makes  a  man 


The  Mediation  of  Character  111 

greater  than  what  he  knows,  or  does ;  which  by  its  own 
dynamic  touch  lifts  other  men,  even  though  we  be 
faulty  in  our  teaching — character,  which  is  just,  not 
withstanding  occasional  intellectual  error,  because 
that  into  the  Holy  of  Holies  of  the  human  soul,  by 
many  another  entrance  than  the  brain,  goes  the  Sheki- 
nah  of  the  God  of  Truth,  dwelling  with  him  that  is  of 
an  humble  and  contrite  spirit — a  character  which  draws 
its  strength,  in  spite  of  the  pale  negations  of  doubt, 
from  firm  belief  in  the  eternal  right,  and  true,  and 
good — these  imperishable  verities  which,  as  in  all  the 
past,  forevermore  endure — realities  to  be  felt  within 
our  souls  by  experience ;  and  always  to  be  seen  from 
the  uplands  of  clarified  thought,  if  we  do  but  trust  our 
power  of  knowing. 

And  we  will  be  "practical"  men.  We  will  accept 
the  test  of  utility ;  agreeing  with  Milton, 

"That  not  to  know  at  large  of  things  remote 
From  use,  obscure  and  subtle ;  but  to  know 
That  which  before  us  lies  in  daily  life 
Is  the  prime  wisdom." 

And,  as  "practical"  men,  we  will  believe  that  the 
law  of  universal  good-will,  the  first  principles  of  truth 
fulness,  justice,  and  benevolence,  are  settled  beyond 
dispute. 

"The  primal  duties  shine  aloft  like  stars ;"  and  we 
will  give  ourselves  to  their  practice;  thus  mediating 
learning  to  life  by  character. 


The  Dead  Hand. 


Sermon  Preached  at  Wesley  Chapel,  Columbus,  Ohio, 

1896. 

II  Samuel  xxiii,  10,  "And  his  hand  clave  unto  the 
sword." 

Eleazar  was  one  of  the  three  mighty  men  of  King 
David.  With  the  other  two  he  one  day  defied  the  army 
of  the  Philistines,  fought  them,  stampeded  them,  and 
all  that  the  army  of  Isreal  had  to  do  was  to  go  after 
and  gather  up  the  spoil.  After  the  fight  it  was  found' 
he  had  clenched  such  a  grip  on  the  sword  handle,  and 
had  held  it  so  long,  not  daring  to  loose  it  in  the  hot  en 
counter,  that  his  hand  had  stiffened  in  that  position; 
circulation  and  sensation  had  ceased;  it  could  not  let 
go ;  it  was  practically  a  dead  hand.  "His  hand  clave 
unto  the  sword."  Soldiers  often  see  similar  things  on 
the  battlefield.  Cavalry  horses  gallop  out  of  the  can 
non  smoke  with  dead  riders  sitting  bolt  upright  in  the 
saddles,  with  one  dead  hand  still  grasping  the  saber, 
and  the  other  the  bridle  rein.  The  English  officer  who 
led  the  charge  of  the  Six  Hundred  at  Balaklava  came 
back  from  among  the  Russian  batteries  that  way. 

We  see  something  like  this  in  other  directions,  and 
it  is  of  them  that  I  want  to  speak.     I  am  reminded  of 


114  The  Dead  Hand 

the  grasp  of  the  dead  hand  by  the  way  some  rich  peo 
ple  hold  onto  their  money  in  this  world.  They  have 
taken  such  a  grip  upon  it  during  their  years  of  health 
and  activity  that  they  apparently  cannot  let  go  of  it  in 
their  years  of  senility  and  old  age.  Even  sickness  and 
approaching  death  does  not  loosen  their  grasp.  A 
certain  English  minister  was  called  to  pray  with  a 
dying  man.  He  tried  to  take  the  man's  hand  in  token 
of  their  agreement  in  offering  united  prayer,  but  the 
sick  man  withheld  it,  keeping  it  beneath  the  bed  cov 
ering,  and  the  minister  prayed  without  it.  In  a  little 
while  the  sick  man  died,  and  then  they  found  why  he 
kept  his  hand  under  the  clothes.  He  was  holding  in  it, 
with  the  grasp  of  death,  a  key.  It  was  the  key  of  the 
safe  where  his  money  was  kept. 

A  newspaper  in  Lewiston,  Me.,  published  some 
time  ago  a  similar  story  about  a  man  in  the  town  of 
Durham,  in  that  state.  The  man  was  very  penurious 
and  determined.  He  died  at  an  advanced  age.  On  his 
deathbed  he  kept  his  hands  closely  clasped.  As  he  drew 
his  last  breath  he  tightened  his  hold.  Everybody  knew 
what  he  had  in  that  hand.  It  was  the  key  to  the  chest  in 
which  he  had  kept  his  gold.  As  his  nerveless  clasp  un 
closed,  the  key  dropped  from  his  fingers  and  clattered 
against  the  bedside.  As  if  to  hold  it  even  after  he  was 
dead,  the  miser  had  tied  the  key  about  his  wrist  by  a 
strong  cord,  which  he  grasped  as  long  as  life  remained. 
He  could  not  take  his  gold  with  him,  but  he  kept  the 
key.  They  buried  him  just  as  he  was,  with  the  key  to 
his  money  chest  tied  about  his  wrist.  And  what  be- 


The  Dead  Hand  115 

came  of  the  gold?  Oh,  the  heirs  took  care  of  that  all 
the  same.  They  split  open  the  chest  with  an  ax,  and 
divided  the  money,  and  let  the  miser  keep  the  key  tied 
about  his  wrist.  He  is  mouldering  in  the  grave  and 
the  key  is  resting  beside  him.  It  was  the  grasp  of  the 
dead  hand. 

Browning  says  he  hears  some  men  begin  to  doubt 
the  truth  of  Christianity.  He  has  a  strong  argument 
for  its  truth — it  teaches  natural  depravity. 

The  only  way  it  can  be  broken  helpfully  for  our 
selves  is  to  begin  to  break  it  during  life  and  health. 
The  Christian  farmer  who  found,  under  a  searching 
sermon,  that  he  was  growing  too  penurious  and  who 
cast  all  the  considerable  amount  of  money  he  had  with 
him  into  the  collection  and  then  cried,  "Now  squirm, 
old  nature,"  was  on  the  right  track.  The  only  way  to 
keep  our  nature  from  at  last  getting  a  stereotyped, 
habitual  set  in  penuriousness  that  it  will  carry  into  the 
grave  beyond  is  to  systematically  make  "nature 
squirm"  by  free-handed  liberality  until  nature  learns 
to  give  with  open-hearted  generosity  without  squirm 
ing. 

Sometimes  rich  men  design  their  money  for  some 
charity  but  hold  on  to  it  so  long  that  they  defeat  their 
own  object.  They  leave  it  to  some  executor  by  will 
for  certain  purposes.  Then  the  will  is  broken  and  the 
purpose  defeated.  Men  tie  up  their  bequests  some 
times  by  conditions  that  become  impossible,  or  invalid, 
or  foolish  by  the  lapse  of  time. 


116  The  Dead  Hand 

Would-be  benevolent  people  seem  often  possessed 
with  the  idea  that  all  wisdom  and  all  honesty  will  die 
with  them ;  and  so  out  of  their  graves  they  still  reach 
the  dead  hand,  damaging  the  community  with  money 
that  should  have  been  left  to  the  enlightened  and  liberal 
control  of  the  living. 

Parents  sometimes  try  to  control  all  their  property 
as  long  as  they  live,  and  then  they  entail  it,  so  that 
neither  their  children  nor  the  community  can  get  hold 
of  it.  Sometimes  this  is  a  device  to  keep  a  worthless 
set  of  children  up  in  the  world  that  ought  to  be  al 
lowed  to  go  to  their  own  place.  Families  are  thus 
perpetuated  that  are  a  social  stench  and  abomination 
in  the  nostrils  of  the  community.  Nature  provides 
that  her  carrion  shall  be  resolved  back  to  its  original 
element  and  thus  benefit  somebody.  Men  provide 
that  theirs  shall  be  preserved  to  curse  mankind.  I 
know  of  children  who,  left  to  themselves,  would  long 
years  ago  have  found  their  natural  and  appropriate 
level  in  the  penitentiary,  who  are  sustained  as  a  reek 
ing  pestilence  in  a  certain  town  by  their  father's  en 
tailed  money — the  power  of  the  dead  hand. 

Occasionally  a  parent  wants  to  found  a  family  and 
perpetuate  his  wealth  as  its  basis,  and  for  this  reason 
entails  it. 

I  am  glad  that  the  constitution  of  Ohio  prohibits 
the  entailing  of  property.  It  goes  on  the  theory  that 
while  a  man  is  a  member  of  society  here,  and  account 
able  to  law  on  earth,  he  has  some  vested  rights;  but 
that  it  is  contrary  to  public  policy  to  allow  beings 


The  Dead  Hand  117 

who  have  passed  into  the  realms  of  spirits  and  own  no 
earthly  jurisdiction  to  control  the  world  still.  At  that 
rate  the  dead  could  soon  crowd  the  living  off  the  earth. 
Men  who  have  been  "bosses"  while  on.  earth  are  not  to  be 
permitted  still  to  "boss"  us  from  heaven  or  the  other 
place.  Occasionally  the  dead  hand  becomes  an  instru 
ment  of  revenge.  People  want  to  wreak  their  spite  up 
on  somebody  and  their  hatred  smites  in  their  will,  or  an 
old  man  or  woman  indulges  in  some  senile  whim  or 
freak  that  is  utterly  wrong. 

I  do  not  see  why  the  command  that  we  avenge  not 
ourselves  does  not  apply  to  dying  men  as  well  as  to 
living  men.  I  cannot  help  but  think  that  injustice 
framed  and  perpetuated  by  a  will  that  cannot  be  al 
tered  when  we  are  gone  will  damn  deeper  than  injus 
tice  perpetuated  while  we  are  here  where  it  may  be 
corrected.  But  perhaps  the  chief  sphere  in  which  the 
dead  hand  has  attempted  to  maintain  its  grasp  is  in 
matters  of  religion.  Money  and  religion  are  the  two 
greatest  concerns  of  men ;  one  sums  up  all  that  pertains 
to  this  world,  and  the  other  all  that  relates  to  the  world 
to  come.  Accordingly  we  see  that  one  of  the  chief 
tendencies  of  men  is  to  keep  their  money  for  them 
selves  as  long  as  they  can  and  then  control  it  after  they 
are  dead  if  possible.  But  there  is  a  still  stronger  pro 
pensity  to  try  to  make  other  people  accept  their  re 
ligion  while  they  are  here  and  then  to  enforce  it  some 
way  upon  mankind  when  they  are  gone. 

Our  chief  method  of  doing  this  is  by  arranging  to 
fasten  our  creed  upon  the  generation  following.  So, 


118  The  Dead  Hand 

incorporated  with  their  creed  and  church  organization 
and  tenures  of  property  and  privilege,  is  some  provision 
that  their  theology  shall  never  be  changed;  that  any 
body  who  does  not  accept  it  just  as  the  fathers  held  it 
must  leave  that  church,  must  forsake  the  associations 
of  his  childhood,  must  relinquish  those  rights  of  in 
heritance  which  are  ours  in  virtue  of  being  born  into 
this  world  and  must  become  a  heretic  and  an  alien. 

Now,  the  direct  consequence  of  such  an  entailed 
creed  and  church  is  that  in  the  next  generation  we 
find  a  larger  number  of  the  most  intelligent  ministers 
and  church  members  who  have  to  sophisticate  their 
understandings  and  consciences  a  little  in  order  to 
remain  in  the  communion. 

We  find  outside  also  in  the  community  a  large 
class  whose  affections  or  interests  have  not  bound 
them  quite  so  closely  to  the  church  of  their  fathers, 
and  they  have  drifted  away  because  of  these  antiquated 
doctrines.  Some  of  them  have  had  a  less  flexible  con 
science,  or  greater  intelligence,  than  many  who  have 
remained  and  they  are  outside  the  church  because  of 
the  very  height  of  their  moral  development. 

Then  we  have  still  another  section  who  are  trying 
to  interpret  the  ancient  symbols  in  modern  fashion, 
and  to  bring  about  revision  of  the  creed. 

It  will  be  perceived  that  all  I  have  said  applies  only 
to  entailed  churches  and  systems  of  theology.  I  trust 
I  have  sense  enough  to  see  that  systems  of  theology, 
more  or  less  complete,  are  necessary  as  a  basis  of 
church  organization  and  fellowship.  A  church  can  no 


The  Dead  Hand  119 

more  erect  itself  in  society  without  a  creed — either 
human  or  divine — than  a  body  can  stand  upright  with 
out  bones.  What  I  object  to  is  having  my  grand 
father's  skeleton  handed  down  to  me  to  build  myself 
up  around;  and  then  if  I  don't  like  it,  being  told  that 
I  can  get  out  of  the  house  and  leave  all  my  family 
rights  behind.  I  contend  I  have  a  right  to  stay  in  the 
old  home  and  to  grow  my  own  bones.  I  claim  that 
every  generation  ought  to  be  left  free,  under  the  spirit 
of  enlightenment  from  heaven,  to  make  its  own  the 
ological  formulas,  according  to  the  progressive  de 
velopment  of  God's  plan  of  the  ages.  I  hold  that  divine 
truth  is  not  such  a  rickety  thing  that  it  has  to  be  thus 
propped  and  guarded  by  hands  reached  up  out  of 
graves,  where  their  owners  mouldered  back  to  dust 
centuries  ago. 

One  of  the  chief  obstacles  to  pure  and  undefiled, 
practical  Christian  religion  today  in  Christendom,  is 
the  mass  of  effete  theological  dogma  that  has  been 
entailed  by  the  inordinate  self-conceit  and  blind  dis 
trust  of  God  and  man  in  the  future  which  our  an 
cestors  felt.  This  mass  of  dogma  has  gathered  about 
itself  vested  interests  and  church  propetry  and  a  vast 
and  complicated  ecclesiastical  machinery.  It  has  power 
to  raise  the  man  up  who  will  yield  to  its  power,  and  to 
cast  him  down  who  protests. 

Another  form  of  this  dead  hand's  grasp  is  seen 
in  the  creation  of  theological  seminaries  which  are 


120  The  Dead  Hand 

committed  in  advance  by  the  terms  of  their  foundation 
to  the  perpetual  advocacy  of  a  certain  philosophy  or 
theological  theory. 

I  have  nothing  to  say  against  the  study  of  philos 
ophy  or  theology.  It  is  the  noblest  pursuit  of  man, 
next  to  going  about  doing  good,  as  our  Savior  did.  A 
theological  seminary  left  free  and  untrammeled  to  find 
and  teach  the  true  doctrine  as  it  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  is, 
to  my  mind,  one  of  the  best  things  in  existence. 

What  I  object  to  is  the  erection  of  buildings  and 
faculties  that  are  sworn,  in  advance  to  the  advocacy  of 
some  dead  man's  doctrines  to  time's  latest  generation. 
Theological  seminaries  ought  to  be  left  free  to  ascer 
tain  and  publish  truth.  I  cannot  have  confidence  in 
the  findings  of  professors  whose  "bread  and  butter" 
depends  upon  their  finding  in  accord  with  the  will  of 
the  founder. 

It  is  a  very  significant  fact  that  Professor  Henry 
P.  Smith,  with  whom  the  Presbyterian  church  at  Cin 
cinnati  had  so  much  trouble  because  of  his  advocacy 
of  the  higher  criticism,  was  an  independently  rich  man 
by  marriage. 

It  is  further  a  very  significant  fact  that  Professor 
Briggs,  who  was  so  sharp  a  thorn  in  the  sides  of  the 
ultra-conservative  orthodoxy  in  New  York,  was  in  a 
theological  seminary  and  in  a  chair  that  did  not  depend 
upon  the  Presbyterian  church  for  support. 

In  connection  with  the  course  of  these  two  finan 
cially  independent  men,  I  saw  it  stated  in  the  journal 
of  that  church  that  it  was  always  a  dangerous  thing 


The  Dead  Hand  121 

for  a  professor  to  have  means  enough  to  support  him 
self.  There  was  no  telling  whether  he  would  teach 
according  to  the  creed  of  his  church  or  not. 

A  judge  in  our  courts  cannot  sit  in  any  case  where 
his  own  financial  interests  are  involved.  Should  the 
judge  in  the  courts  of  spiritual  truth,  where  the  case  is 
far  more  delicate,  and  the  interests  far  higher,  be  made 
any  more  subject  to  temptation? 

A  congressman  will  not  legislate  in  a  matter  which 
directly  involves  his  own  private  concerns.  Should 
ministers  and  professors,  who  practically  set  the  re 
ligious  beliefs  of  Christendom,  be  compelled  to  do  this 
difficult  and  onerous  work  under  the  direct  influence  of 
self-interest? 

This  age  needs  emancipation  in  every  way  from 
the  grasp  of  the  dead  hand.  In  financial  matters  and 
in  spiritual,  the  children  should  be  left  free  to  work 
out  their  own  destiny. 


The  Man  With  One  Talent. 


Sermon  Preached  at  Wesley  Chapel,  Columbus,  O., 

1896. 


Matt  xxv,  25,  "I  was  afraid,  and  went  and  hid  thy 
talent  in  the  earth.  Lo,  there  thou  hast  that  is  thine." 

I  never  heard  a  word  of  praise  in  a  sermon  in 
my  life  for  this  one  talented  man.  He  seems  to  have 
few  friends  and  has  received  but  little  sympathy. 
But  there  is  some  good  in  every  man,  however  de 
praved,  if  we  only  stop  to  find  it;  and  there  is  some 
good  in  this  man.  He  had  at  least  one  redeeming  trait 
of  character.  He  did  not  spend  his  Lord's  money  upon 
himself.  He  did  not  waste  it  in  riotous  living,  or  put 
it  in  his  purse  for  himself.  He  hid  it  away  carefully  in 
the  earth  so  that  it  might  not  be  lost;  and  then  when 
the  Lord  returned  he  was  honest  enough  to  bring  it 
back  just  as  he  received  it. 

Everybody  who  has  had  trust  funds  embezzled, 
or  been  swindled  out  of  his  money  by  rascals,  or  who 
has  ever  suffered  from  friends  who  borrowed  and  for 
got  to  pay  back,  will  think  more  highly  of  this  man  if 
he  only  consider  his  case.  It  is  true  that  he  says  he 
was  afraid ;  but  then  it  is  a  mark  of  grace  sometimes  to 


124  The  Man  with  One  Talent 

be  afraid  to  do  wrong;  and  this  man  was  ahead  of 
many  in  these  times,  who  seem  not  to  be  afraid  of  God, 
man,  or  Satan. 

There  are  worse  men  than  this  man  was.  Many 
a,  man  would  have  squandered  the  money  at  once  for  a 
little  selfish  gratification.  Others  would  have  put  it 
out  at  interest  and  when  the  time  came  for  settlement 
would  have  tried  to  bring  in  a  bill  for  something  or 
other  that  would  have  eaten  up  both  principal  and  in 
terest.  Thousands  of  the  people  who  throw  stones  at 
this  man  live  in  glass  houses  themselves.  Of  course, 
we  cannot  wholly  excuse  him,  because  our  Master  does 
not;  but  in  condemning  him  we  should  be  careful  we 
do  not  pronounce  sentence  upon  ourselves. 

Many  of  us  cannot  help  feeling  a  good  deal  of 
sympathy  for  this  man  of  one  talent.  We  have  a  per 
sonal  acquaintance  with  him;  the  fact  is,  we  have 
known  him  all  our  lives.  When  we  undertake  to  say  a 
few  words  in  his  defense  we  are  not  wholly  disinterest 
ed,  but  are  trying  to  buoy  up  our  own  sinking  spirits. 

To  begin  with :  The  man  of  one  talent  is  the  very 
man  who  has  the  strongest  temptation  to  bury  his 
talent.  He  is  overcome  by  the  sense  of  his  own  insig 
nificance.  He  feels  that  he  amounts  to  so  little,  that 
if  he  does  bury  his  talent,  there  will  be  no  great  loss. 
So  far  as  he  can  see,  anything  worth  attaining  is 
wholly  beyond  his  reach.  He  is  completely  cast  into 
the  shade  by  the  man  with  the  five  talents,  who  easily 
makes  his  mark,  steps  to  a  high  position  of  honor  and 
usefulness,  and  carries  off  the  laurels.  Whatever  the 


The  Man  with  One  Talent  125 

man  of  ability  does  is  grandly  done,  and  receives  recog 
nition,  and  it  is  very  easy  for  one  to  use  one's  talents 
under  such  circumstances.  A  hero  has  a  hero's  inspira 
tion.  But  what  stimulus  has  the  man  of  medium  en 
dowments,  when  he  knows  that  what  he  does  is  of 
very  small  account,  and  though  he  may  try  ever  so 
hard,  and  do  his  "level  best,"  his  work  will  not  be 
noticed.  Poor  man !  If  he  could  only  become  the 
founder  of  a  great  philosophical  school,  or  endow  a 
college,  or  thrill  a  multitude  with  eloquence,  he  would 
then  have  something  to  inspire  him  to  a  life  of  activity. 
As  it  is,  he  feels  crushed  and  disheartened,  and  goes 
and  buries  his  poor  talent  with  a  sigh,  or  perhaps  a 
groan  of  despair. 

We  see  this  one-talented  man  go  to  a  religious 
meeting  with  his  mind  made  up  to  honor  his  Master  by 
a  few  words  of  public  testimony.  But  before  he  has 
had  an  opportunity  to  do  so,  another  man  has  gained 
the  floor,  and  with  oft  glowing,  brilliant  speech  tells 
of  the  goodness  of  God  and  the  rapture  of  a  religious 
experience,  until  the  whole  assembly  is  touched  and 
melted.  How  can  the  man  of  weaker  endowments 
summon  the  courage  to  speak  after  listening  to  such 
words?  His  halting,  hesitating  speech  would  only 
wear  the  good  feeling  of  the  meeting;  and  so  he  yields 
to  the  tempetation  to  keep  his  seat,  and  bury  his  poor 
talent. 

Or  perhaps  he  has  been  induced  by  the  persuasion 
of  friends  to  take  charge  of  a  Bible  class,  and  he  really 
feels  that  he  would  like  to  become  an  efficient  teacher. 


126  The  Man  With  One  Talent 

Howbeit,  after  several  trials,  he  sees  that  his  efforts 
are  futile ;  one  member  after  another  drops  out  of  the 
class,  while  those  who  remain  are  sacrcely  able  to  dis 
guise  their  listlessness  and  dissatisfaction.  But  no 
sooner  has  he  given  up  his  class  than  some  man  of 
greater  ability,  but  with  no  more  true  devotion,  ac 
cepts  the  position  and  does  the  work  with  ease  and 
acceptance.  The  temptation  to  bury  his  one  talent  for 
ever  out  of  sight  becomes  almost  irresistable  with  the 
man  who  failed,  and  if  any  one  needs  help  and  sym 
pathy,  he  does. 

However,  in  every  experience,  be  it  ever  so  sad 
and  disheartening,  there  are  some  complications ;  and 
the  life  of  the  one-talented  man  is  not  wholly  devoid  of 
them.  Here  is  one:  He  is  spared  certain  peculiar 
temptations  that  assail  every  man  of  brilliant  abilities. 
It  is  difficult  for  such  a  man  to  keep  his  motives  pure. 
The  praises  of  men  are  apt  to  turn  his  head,  and  before 
he  is  aware  of  the  fact,  he  is  seeking  their  plaudits 
rather  than  the  approbation  of  God.  Constantly  he 
finds  himself  looking  for  the  applause  of  the  crowd, 
and  if  it  does  not  come  vigorously  his  heart  sinks  and 
his  courage  fails.  Many  a  man  has  been  wrecked 
morally  on  the  shoals  of  popular  appreciation,  and  has 
come  to  regard  the  voice  of  the  people  as  the  voice  of 
God.  The  man  of  slender  ability  escapes  these  tempta 
tions. 

Not  only  so,  but  he  is  spared  a  great  deal  of 
damaging  criticism  that  comes  to  his  more  brilliant 
contemporary  who  occupies  some  conspicuous  position. 


The  Man  With  One  Talent  127 

Doubtless  many  a  public  man  who  has  received  scath 
ing  criticism  from  his  enemies  looks  with  envy  upon  the 
man  whose  name  is  not  mentioned  outside  the  narrow 
circle  of  his  acquaintances.  The  five-talented  men 
are  not  to  be  envied.  The  applause  they  get  is  always 
qualified  by  some  invidious  criticism  or  comparison 
that  stings  and  rankles  in  the  mind,  spoiling  every 
moment  of  triumph.  It  should  be  remembered,  too, 
that  the  responsibilities  of  the  man  of  one  talent  are 
not  so  great.  For  "to  whom  little  is  given,  of  him  little 
is  required." 

Another  thing  ought  to  be  a  source  of  great  com 
fort  to  persons  of  meager  talent  and  that  is  that  almost 
all  of  the  five-talented  men  who  have  ever  amounted  to 
anything  have  also  been  tempted  to  bury  their  talents. 
Moses  tampered  with  the  napkin,  and  had  already 
wrapped  his  talents  in  it  and  was  about  to  bury  them 
in  the  wilderness,  when  God  commanded  him  to  be 
come  the  deliverer  of  Isreal.  Moses  plead  a  thick 
tongue  and  inexperience,  "Who  am  I,  that  I  should  go 
unto  Pharoah?"  The  same  is  true  of  Jeremiah.  When 
God  said  unto  him  "I  have  ordained  thee  a  prophet 
unto  nations,"  he  replied,  "Ah,  Lord  God,  behold  I 
cannot  speak,  for  I  am  a  child."  He,  too,  had  the  nap 
kin  in  his  hand  and  wanted  to  bury  his  talent. 

The  fact  is  that  the  cowardice  which  the  one-talented 
man  pleads  is  not  felt  by  him  alone,  but  is  felt  by 
Moses  and  Jeremiah,  and  by  all  men  alike,  with  almost 
no  exceptions.  Nearly  all  public  speakers  are  affected 
with  it,  and  the  more  efficient  they  are  as  public  speak- 


128  The  Man  with  One  Talent 

ers  generally  the  more  they  are  so  affected.  The  very 
nervous  susceptibility  which  makes  them  acutely  sen 
sible  of  fear  is  the  highest  equipment  for  public  ad 
dress — without  it  a  preacher  or  teacher  or  lecturer 
never  succeeds,  for  he  lacks  the  power  to  strongly  feel 
what  he  says  and  to  make  others  feel  it. 

We  are  to  bear  in  mind  that  God  does  not  look 
with  kindly  regard  only  upon  the  splendid  achieve 
ments  of  genius,  but  also  upon  the  most  humble  serv 
ice,  if  it  is  done  sincerely.  A  cup  of  cold  water  offered 
in  Christ's  name,  a  secret  prayer,  a  few  alms  given  in 
private,  none  of  them  shall  lose  their  reward.  When 
the  Pharisees  came  to  the  treasury  and  threw  in  of 
their  abundance  it  elicited  no  remarks  from  the 
Master's  lips,  but  no  sooner  had  the  poor  widow 
deposited  her  gift  in  the  treasury  than  it  caught  his  at 
tention  and  won  a  golden  tribute  of  praise.  Remember 
what  Christ  said  to  his  disciples,  "He  that  would  be 
greatest  among  you  let  him  be  the  servant  of  all."  God 
does  care  for  little,  seemingly  insignificant  things.  Not 
a  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground  without  his  notice.  He 
made  the  mighty  planet  which  swings  through  space ; 
but  he  also  made  the  tiny  blade  of  grass  in  the  meadow, 
and  with  wonderful  delicacy  of  touch  painted  the  petals 
of  the  rose  and  of  the  modest  violet.  And  so  H>  cares  for 
the  sweet,  unobtrusive  bloom  of  the  humblest  service. 

So  be  content  to  seem  what  you  are  and  to  give 
Him  the  very  best  service  you  can  as  you  are.  As 
Beecher  said  some  years  ago  :  "If  God  made  you  half  a 
fool  it  is  better  that  you  should  seem  to  be  half  a  fool 


The  Man  With  One  Talent  129 

than  that  you  should  make  believe  that  you  are  wise. 
All  sorts  of  animals  are  willing  to  seem  what  they  are. 
A  donkey  is  always  willing  to  be  thought  a  donkey, 
and  he  honors  God  in  it.  An  owl  is  always  willing  to 
be  thought  an  owl,  and  he  fulfills  the  function  given 
him,  even  if  he  does  look  wiser  than  he  is.  And  a  man 
should  be  willing  to  be  just  what  God  has  made  him. 
Not  that  he  should  not  desire  to  increase,  to  augment 
his  talents ;  not  that  he  should  not  put  his  money  out 
at  interest,  but  a  man  who  is  ignorant  had  better  admit 
himself  to  be  ignorant.  A  man  who  is  not  a  genius 
had  better  hot  think  himself  a  genius.  A  man  who  is 
poor  had  better  think  he  is  poor.  A  man  who  is  un 
skilled  had  better  admit  that  he  is  unskilled.  Whatever 
you  are,  while  you  strive  for  greater  excellence,  stand 
on  that  which  is  true  and  right,  and  do  not  make  your 
self  out  to  be  more  than  you  are.  Do  not  attempt  to 
put  on  guises  and  pretenses  in  the  vain  hope  of  winning 
praise." 

It  ought  to  be  a  comfort  to  recollect  that  the 
greatest  part  of  the  world's  work  is  done  by  ordinary, 
comfortable,  jog-trot  sort  of  people  after  all,  whom  God 
must  love  most  of  all,  as  Abraham  Lincoln  used  to 
say,  because  he  has  made  so  many  of  them.  "For  our 
own  part,"  as  a  writer  in  The  Tribune,  speaking  on  the 
state  of  the  times,  declared,  "we  are  willing  to  ac 
knowledge  in  these  feverish  days  a  great  yearning  to 
ward  commonplace  people,  who  write  no  poetry  an'l 
are  content  with  life's  everyday  duties.  Depend  upon 


130  The  Man  With  One  Talent 

it,  to  this  kind  is  the  world  indebted  for  whatever 
happiness  it  may  secure  from  wrecked  hopes  and  dis 
appointed  ambitions." 

Wordsworth  was  right.  A  woman  may  be  too 
bright  and  good  for  human  nature's  daily  food.  Her 
irritating  restlessness  may  grow  to  be  a  bother.  Her 
elegant  sentimentalities  may  lead  to  nerves.  She  may 
expect  an  impossible  happiness  from  marriage  and 
grow  morbid  with  disappointment.  And  what  we  say 
of  her,  we  may  say  with  equal  propriety  of  him. 
Happy  both  if  God  vouchsafes  to  them  the  inestimable 
blessing  of  obscurity  and  the  mild  lot  of  the  majority. 
After  all  these  variations  of  natural  ability,  what 
is  the  end  of  our  human  life? 

The  end  of  life  is  not  to  do  good,  though  a  vast 
number  ©f  Christians  think  so.  It  is  not  to  win  souls, 
though  many  say  so.  The  end  of  life  is  to  do  the  will 
of  God.  That  may  be  in  the  way  of  doing  good  or 
winning  souls  or  making  a  name,  or  it  may  not.  The 
maximum  achievement  of  any  man's  life,  as  Professor 
Drummond  says,  after  it  is  all  over  is  to  have  done 
the  will  of  God,  be  it  in  a  high  place  or  a  low  place. 
No  man  or  woman  can  have  done  any  more  with  his  or 
her  life ;  no  Luther,  no  Spurgeon,  no  Wesley,  no  Me- 
lancthon,  can  have  done  any  more  with  his  life,  and  a 
dairymaid  or  a  scavenger  can  have  done  as  much. 
Therefore,  the  safest  principle  upon  which  we  have  to 
run  our  lives  is  to  adhere,  through  good  report  or  ill, 
through  temptations  and  through  prosperity  or  ad 
versity,  to  the  will  of  God  for  us. 


The  Man  With  One  Talent  131 

The  use  of  even  a  very  humble  order  of  talent  may 
be  full  of  all  blessing  to  our  fellow-men  and  bring  us 
blessings  from  them.  I  am  convinced  that  the  hap 
piness  and  prosperity  of  mankind  depends  far  more  up 
on  the  one-talented  people  who  cook  our  food  and  make 
our  beds  and  fashion  our  clothes  than  upon  any  other 
class.  We  could  do  without  the  great  generals  and  ora 
tors  and  statesmen  far  better  than  we  could  do  without 
them.  And  once  in  a  while,  the  doing  of  some  com 
monplace  duty  faithfully  and  steadily  is  the  way  to 
the  highest  honor.  When  we  are  willing  to  put  our 
one  talent  to  use  then  God  sees  to  it  that  it  shall 
sometimes  have  a  marvelous  increase. 


The  Sermon  on  Number  in  Nature 


Sermon,  Wesley  Chapel,  November  15,  1896. 

Rev.  J.  C.  Jackson,  sr.,  delivered  an  interesting 
lecture  at  Wesley  Chapel  last  night.  His  theme  was, 
"Number  in  Nature,"  and  his  text,  Isa.,  xl,  26:  "Lift 
up  your  eyes  on  high  and  see  who  hath  created  these, 
that  bringeth  out  their  hosts  by  number."  Dr  Jackson 
said: — (Ohio  State  Journal). 

The  prophet  bids  us  look  upward  into  the  skies 
on  a  clear  night  and  notice  the  order  and  proportion 
in  the  movement  of  the  heavenly  bodies  for  a  proof 
of  the  existence  of  God.  One  of  the  chief  agnostics 
of  the  present  time  a  few  years  ago  advised  those 
who  believed  in  God  to  stick  to  the  argument  from 
design,  as  it  was  their  best  hold  with  men  of  common 
sense.  In  the  spirit  of  the  two-fold  injunction  of 
Isaiah  and  Professor  Huxley  I  propose  to  speak  of  a 
few  examples  of  number  in  nature  as  an  evidence  of 
creative  wisdom  and  design.  I  believe  it  is  easy  to 
point  out  such  remarkable  mathematical  proportions 
in  the  make-up  of  the  commonest  things  about  us  that 
the  impression  upon  the  natural,  healthy,  unbiased 
mind  will  be  irresistible  that  it  is  a  Divine  Creator 
who  has  brought  forth  all  by  number. 


134  Number  in  Nature 

God  has  indeed  made  all  things  by  weight  and 
measures.  The  waters,  the  air,  the  earth,  the  rocks 
and  the  stars  have  all  been  combined  by  the  infinite 
mind  in  definite  proportions,  as  by  a  wise  master 
builder.  Let  us  see  how  this  is  so  and  thus  increase 
our  sense  of  God's  being  and  wisdom  and  order.  The 
sacred  writer  declares  that  His  eternal  power  and 
Godhood  may  be  plainly  seen  from  the  things  that 
are  made. 

First — Let  us  begin  with  chemistry.  In  nature 
there  are  some  sixty  or  seventy  so-called  elementary 
substances.  Out  of  these  all  the  compound  substances 
are  built  up.  A  compound  substance  is  one  that  is 
made  up  of  two  or  more  elementary  or  simple  sub 
stances.  Salt  or  salt-petre  or  water  are  compound 
substances. 

Now  all  these  elementary  substances  go  into  the 
compound  substances  in  exact  proportions.  Just  as  a 
good  cook  in  making  bread  takes  the  same  proportion 
of  flour,  yeast,  salt  and  water  every  time,  so  does  God 
in  making  anything.  Thus  water  is  always  eight 
parts,  by  weight,  of  oxygen  and  one  of  hydrogen.  This 
is  what  chemists  call  the  law  of  constant  proportion. 
In  Kamschatka,  in  the  tropics,  on  the  summit  of  Chim- 
borazo,  water  is  always  built  up  that  way.  And  so 
of  everything  else;  always  one  way.  With  God  there 
is  no  variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning. 

But  there  is  another  thing  still  more  remarkable. 
It  is  the  way  He  mixes  two  or  more  simple  substances 


Number  in  Nature  135 

in  different  proportions  to  form  a  whole  series  of  en 
tirely  different  compound  substances. 

Thus  He  makes  oxygen  and  nitrogen,  and  makes 
out  of  them  nitrous  oxyde,  or  laughing  gas.  Then  He 
uses  different  proportions,  and  gives  us  nitric  oxide. 
Then,  dipping  in  His  hand  again,  and  bringing  out 
another  combination,  He  gives  us  nitrous  acid.  An 
other  turn,  and  another  proportion,  hypo-nitric  acid. 
And  then,  finally,  by  still  another  proportion,  nitric 
acid,  the  powerful  substance  that  will  eat  almost  any 
metal  up — the  substance  that  Jewish  pawnbrokers 
try  gold  with,  and  that  one  of  the  illustrated  papers 
not  long  since  pictures  a  Jew  pouring  on  the  pavement 
of  the  new  Jerusalem  to  see  if  it  was  really  the 
precious  metal. 

Five  substances  out  of  the  two,  by  different  pro 
portions.  But  now  comes  the  marvelous  thing.  These 
five  different  substances  are  not  made  out  of  the  two 
at  haphazard  or  random;  as  if  the  Infinite  Chemist 
should  take  three  parts  of  one  and  three  of  the  other 
to  make  the  first  thing,  and  five  of  one  and  six  of  the 
other  to  make  the  second  thing,  and  seven  of  one  and 
eight  of  the  other  to  make  the  third  thing.  No;  into 
every  one  goes  14  parts  of  the  first;  then,  of  the 
second,  he  takes  proportions  that  are  obtained  by  dif 
ferent  multiplications  of  eight.  In  the  first  combina 
tion  it  is  fourteen  and  eight;  in  the  second,  it  is  four 
teen,  and  twice  eight,  or  sixteen;  in  the  third,  it  is 
fourteen  and  three  times  eight,  or  twenty-four ;  in  the 
fourth,  it  is  fourteen  and  four  times  eight,  or  thirty- 


136  Number  in  Nature 

two;  in  the  fifth — nitric  acid,  it  is  fourteen  and  five 
times  eight,  or  forty.  This  is  the  law  of  multiple  pro 
portions — that  is,  that  as  God  builds  up  the  higher 
product  of  things,  he  always  does. so  in  proportions 
that  are  obtained  by  multiplying  one  or  more  of  the 
lower  elements.  So  we  have,  first,  the  law  of  con 
stant  proportions,  according  to  which  the  ingredients 
of  the  different  substances  never  vary;  and,  second, 
the  law  of  multiple  proportions,  according  to  which 
the  constant  proportions  go  forward  into  the  higher 
products  by  a  series  of  exact  multiplications  of  the 
lower  ones. 

And  do  you  have  any  sort  of  an  idea  that  God, 
who  is  so  careful  about  fixing  the  particles  of  nitrogen 
and  oxygen  in  just  the  right  proportions,  so  that  not 
one  of  them  is  too  much  or  too  little,  will  not  care  for 
you,  oh  ye  of  little  faith?  Ye  are  of  more  value  than 
a  whole  world  full  of  nitric  acid! 

There  is  a  third  law,  which  to  my  mind  is  more 
wonderful  still.  It  is  a  little  harder  to  follow  than  the 
last,  but  by  close  attention,  I  think  all  can  see  it.  It 
conies  out  in  this  way : 

Suppose  God  is  going  to  make  by  the  hands  of  a 
chemist,  some  sulphurous  acid.  He  takes  sixteen 
parts  of  sulphur  by  weight  and  eight  of  oxygen.  That 
gives  us  sulphurous  acid — what  all  the  bleaching  es 
tablishments  use  to  bleach  straw,  wool,  silk,  and  the 
like,  that  would  be  injured  by  chlorine.  So,  our  first 


Number  in  Nature  137 

fact  is,  that  sixteen  parts  of  sulphur  and  eight  of  oxy 
gen  will  combine  exactly  with  each  other  into  a  useful 
substance. 

But  now  suppose  that  some  iron  ore  is  to  be  made, 
to  be  stored  away  in  the  earth  for  ages  for  the  use  of 
man,  twenty-seven  parts  of  pure  iron  are  mixed  with 
eight  of  oxygen.  This  is  fact  No.  2. 

Now  for  No.  3.  We  saw  that  eight  parts  of 
oxygen  combined  with  sixteen  of  sulphur  to  make 
sulphurous  acid.  And  eight  of  oxygen  combined  with 
twenty-seven  of  iron  to  make  oixde^of  iron.  Now, 
will  the  sixteen  parts  of  sulphur  and  the  twenty-seven 
of  iron,  that  each  combines  with  the  eight  of  oxygen, 
combine  with  each  other?  In  other  words,  can  we 
find  something  in  chemistry  that  is  like  the  law  in 
mathematics,  that  two  magnitudes  that  are  each  equal 
to  a  second  magnitude,  are  equal  to  each  other?  Will 
that  principle  hold  good  here?  It  will.  For  the  four 
teen  of  sulphur  and  the  twenty-seven  of  iron  go  to 
gether  and  make  iron  sulphide,  which  is  the  source  of 
sulphuretted  hydrogen,  of  such  great  use  in  extract 
ing  metal  from  the  ores.  It  is  also  the  source  of  cop 
peras,  of  use  in  dyeing. 

Here,  then,  is  what  I  may  call  a  kind  of  triangular 
possibility  of  combination  of  substance,  each  useful  in 
itself  singly,  and  then  affording  new  possibili 
ties  of  usefulness  when  taken  two  and  two — a  permu 
tation  of  contrivance  and  usefulness.  And  any  good 
chemist  can  point  out  scores  of  these  triangular  ar 
rangements,  and  show  that  all  chemistry  is  built  up 


138  Number  in  Nature 

on  the  most  exact  laws  of  mathematics,  and  that  these 
combine  and  recombine,  and  then  make  cross-combi 
nations,  until  the  finite  mind  is  lost  in  the  maze  of 
calculations  needed  to  follow  the  mathematics  of  the 
Almighty. 

Let  me  make  a  little  divergence  here,  from  which 
the  return  will  show  that  it  is  related  to  my  subject. 
The  higher  criticism  is  modifying  many  of  our  former 
conceptions  of  Scripture.  Scholars,  theologians  and 
ministers  who  are  abreast  with  the  times,  and  bishops 
and  college  presidents  tell  us  we  will  have  to  change 
many  of  our  ideas  as  to  the  way  in  which  the  Bible 
was  produced  and  the  nature  of  its  contents.  It  is 
none  the  less  an  inspired  book;  it  is  as  valuable  and 
authoritative  as  ever  for  a  guide  in  faith  and  morals. 
But  we  are  to  come  at  its  inspiration  from  a  different 
approach  and  learn  the  same  lessons  in  faith  and 
morals  in  a  different  way. 

Coal  was  none  the  less  valuable  because  scien 
tists  discovered  that  instead  of  having  been  mixed  up 
in  the  crucible  of  nature  as  mortar  is  mixed  in  a  vat 
and  poured  into  a  bed  prepared  for  it,  it  grew  through 
ages  by  the  slow  compacting  of  innumerable  layers  of 
plants  and  trees  and  leaves,  and  that  there  were  in  it 
lignite  and  stones  and  other  substances  not  yet  turned 
to  coal. 

So  with  the  Bible.  It  has  grown  up  by  leaves 
from  the  Bibles  of  more  ancient  religions,  edited  by 
inspired  men,  such  as  Moses  and  others.  By  the 
blending  and  collating  of  various  accounts,  by  addi- 


Number  in  Nature  139 

tions  from  later  hands,  by  successive  ages  contribut 
ing  their  portion.  God  is  none  the  less  in  it  and  over 
it  than  he  was  in  the  making  of  coal  according  to  the 
new  method  instead  of  the  old.  For,  if  we  are  theists, 
not  to  speak  of  being  Christians,  we  must  believe  in 
a  God  who  is  in  all,  through  all,  over  all,  and  by 
whom  are  all  things,  and  for  whom  are  all  things; 
blessed  be  His  name  forevermore! 

But  here  in  chemistry,  in  nature,  is  a  Bible  that 
no  higher  critics  can  change  our  ideas  of.  Its  mean 
ing  is  plain.  It  is  as  clear  as  mathematics  and  micro 
scopes  and  eyes  can  make  it.  And  it  spells  out  intelli 
gence,  design,  will,  wisdom,  in  every  line,  with  no  sub 
tractions  to  be  made  from  admixture  of  human  error. 

Second — Look  again  at  the  systems  of  numbers 
we  discover  in  crystallography. 

When  we  come  to  deal  with  mineral  substances, 
we  are  not  handling  mere  unorganized  lumps  of  dirt; 
we  are  looking  upon  objects  as  regular  as  geometry 
and  mathematics  can  make  them.  As  Davy  says,  "We 
are  not  dealing  with  pebbles  of  pretty  shapes  and 
tints,  but  with  objects  modeled  by  a  Divine  hand;  and 
every  additional  fact  becomes  to  the  mind  a  new 
revelation  of  His  wisdom."  We  find — to  use  an  ex 
pression  of  Plato — "God  geometrizing." 

In  the  mineral  kingdom  God  builds  up  everything 
by  systems  of  crystallization.  We  have  found  a  stone 
in  a  field  covered,  it  may  be,  with  regular-shaped,  dia 
mond-like  little  bodies.  Those  are  quartz  crystals. 
In  Licking  county  there  is  a  place  called  Flint  Ridge, 


140  Number  in  Nature 

where  all  the  stones  are  covered  with  quartz  crystals; 
the  farmers  gather  them  in  their  yards  for  ornaments, 
a  heap  of  them  in  the  morning  sun  is  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  objects  you  can  look  upon.  Now,  if  you 
were  to  be  able  to  take  apart  any  mineral  substance 
whatever,  you  would  find  that  God  had  put  it  together 
of  a  greater  or  less  number  of  these  regular,  geometri 
cal  shaped  little  bodies.  And  each  kind  of  mineral 
has  its  own  particular  shaped  crystal.  You  will  not 
find  quartz-shaped  crystals  in  iron.  Iron  has  its  own 
shape.  And  so  of  every  material.  There  are  six  great 
systems  of  crystallization.  They  have  as  their  base 
or  type  six  different  geometrical  figures,  and  each 
system  is  built  of  crystals  of  that  figure.  And  the  re 
markable  thing  is  that  these  six  different  systems, 
while  each  having  an  almost  infinite  number  of  per 
mutations  and  varieties  in  itself,  never  runs  over  into, 
and  mixes  up  with  another  system,  any  more  than 
roses  are  mixed  up  with  pinks.  God  is  not  the  author 
of  confusion.  Each  system  works  into  itself  and  com 
bines  with  itself  and  perpetuates  itself  in  almost  end 
less  variety,  but  never  crosses  over  into  another  any 
more  than  horses  cross  over  into  cows. 

Let  me  now  give  you  one  illustration  of  this 
wonderful  geometrizing  of  the  Almighty.  I  went  up 
one  day  to  the  department  of  mineralogy  in  the  State 
university  and  asked  the  curator  to  gather  me  together 
all  their  specimens  of  the  mineral  called  fluor  spar. 
When  I  began  to  study  fluor  spar  I  discovered  some 
marvelous  facts. 


Number  in  Nature  141 

A  perfect  crystal  of  fluor  spar  has  one  hundred  and 
fourteen  different  faces  or  facets.  Split  it  in  any 
way  you  please  and  you  come  upon  some  regular 
geometrical  figure.  Keep  on  splitting  it  and  you  dis 
cover  the  figures  that  are  called  for  in,  I  know  not 
how  many,  demonstrations  in  Euclid.  For  example, 
cleave  off  in  succession  one  hundred  and  eight  of  its 
one  hundred  and  fourteen  facets  and  you  come  to  a 
solid  figure,  a  regular  cube,  or  perfectly  square  figure. 

See  now,  how  singularly  this  cube  will  cut.  The 
boys  who  have  studied  geometry  may  recall  that  the 
first  proposition  on  the  I5th  Book  of  Euclid,  is  "How 
to  inscribe  a  regular  tetrahedron  in  a  cube,"  and  they 
may  recollect  the  hours  they  spent  in  trying  to  do 
that  thing.  But  you  hold  this  cube  of  fluor  spar  in 
your  hand  and  strike  it  a  sharp  blow  on  its  edges 
with  a  knife  held  at  exactly  the  proper  angle,  and 
your  tetrahedron  will  come  out.  You  will  have  a 
visible  demonstration  right  from  the  hand  of  God, 
how  to  build  a  tetrahedron  inside  of  a  cube. 

Or  perhaps  you  have  cudgled  your  brains  in  vain 
over  the  third  proposition  of  the  i$th  Book  of  Euclid: 
"How  to  inscribe  an  octahedron  in  a  cube."  Just  put 
back  on  your  cube  certain  regular  sections  that  you 
have  removed  by  chipping,  and  you  have  it — the  Di 
vine  Mathematician's  demonstration  of  "How  to  in 
scribe  an  octahedron  in  a  cube."  I  do  not  know  of 
anything  anywhere  out  of  which  I  can  get  a  better 


142  Number  in  Nature 

argument  for  a  God  than  out  of  this  piece  of  fluor 
spar  in  my  hand.  Mind,  or  chance,  had  to  contrive 
that,  and  chance  never  did  it. 

And  God  carries  out  these  systems  of  crystalliza 
tion  everywhere;  in  the  very  blood  of  all  living 
creatures.  Columbus  has  been  made  known  through 
out  the  learned  world  by  its  Professor  Wormley— 
were  he  speaking  to  you  tonight,  he  would  tell  you 
that  the  Great  Creator  has  made  even  the  blood  of  the 
guinea  pigs  that  our  boys  keep  in  cages,  to  crystallize 
in  tetrahedrons,  and  that  of  the  squirrels  in  the  state- 
house  yard  in  six  sided  plates,  and  that  of  the  rats  in 
our  back  yards  in  octahedrons.  God's  laws  of  crys 
tallization  enables  the  chemist  to  tell  whether  the 
blood  on  a  knife  is  the  blood  of  a  beef  or  of  a  man,  and 
thus,  it  may  be,  to  detect  a  murder. 

Third—With  one  more  line  of  illustrations  of 
number  in  nature,  I  will  close.  We  will  take  it  from 
botany : 

"A  pleasant  writer  tells  of  a  Texas  gentleman  who 
had  the  misfortune  to  be  an  unbeliever.  One  day  he 
was  walking  in  the  woods  reading  the  writings  of  Plato. 
He  came  to  where  that  great  writer  uses  the  phrase, 
'God  geometrizing.'  He  thought  to  himself,  'If  I 
could  only  see  plan  and  order  in  God's  works  I  could 
be  a  believer.'  Just  then  he  saw  a  little  Texas  star' 
at  his  feet.  He  picked  it  up  and  thoughtlessly  began 
to  count  its  petals.  He  found  there  were  five.  He 
counted  the  stamens  and  there  were  five  of  them.  He 
counted  the  divisions  at  the  base  of  the  fltfwer;  there 


Number  in  Nature  143 

were  five  of  them.  He  then  set  about  multiplying 
these  three  fives  to  see  how  many  chances  there  were 
of  a  flower  being  brought  into  existence  without  the 
aid  of  mind,  and  having  in  it  these  three  fives.  He 
found  the  chances  against  it  were  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  to  one.  He  thought  that  was  very  strange. 
He  examined  another  flower  and  found  it  the  same. 
He  multiplied  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  by  itself 
to  see  how  many  chances  there  were  against  there  be 
ing  two  flowers  having  exactly  this  relation  of  num 
bers.  He  found  the  chances  against  it  were  thirteen 
thousand  six  hundred  and  twenty-five  to  one.  But  all 
around  him  were  multitudes  of  those  little  flowers 
and  they  had  been  blooming  there  for  years.  He 
thought  this  showed  the  order  of  intelligence  and  that 
the  mind  that  ordained  it  was  God.  And  so  he  shut 
up  his  book,  and  picked  up  the  little  flower  and  kissed 
it  and  exclaimed,  'Bloom  on,  little  flowers;  sing  on, 
little  birds;  you  have  a  God,  and  I  have  a  God;  the 
God  that  made  these  little  flowers  made  me.' '' 

Or  consider  the  leaves  of  plants.  They  are  not 
scattered  over  the  stem  at  hap-hazard ;  they  are  ar 
ranged  symmetrically.  You  take  our  Indian  corn;  it 
is  always  made  so  that  the  leaves  come  out  opposite 
each  other,  as  also  in  the  honeysuckle.  Then,  the 
second  set  are  made  to  come  out  over  the  intervals  of 
the  first ;  that  is,  if  the  first  extend  east  and  west,  the 
second  will  extend  north  and  south.  The  third  set 
will  be  east  and  west  again.  So  there  are  tw*o  ranks 


144  Number  in  Nature 

of  leaves  up  and  down  the  stem.  This  is  called  the 
two-ranked  arrangement.  And  corn  and  honey 
suckles  are  always  that  way. 

Now,  suppose  God  is  going  to  make  a  stock  of 
sedgegrass.  A  leaf  comes  out  on  the  east  side;  a  little 
further  up,  one-third  around  the  stem,  the  second;  a 
third,  two-thirds  around,  and  a  little  higher  or  three- 
thirds  around,  the  whole  way,  the  fourth  leaf,  or  di 
rectly  over  the  first.  So  the  leaves  of  sedgegrass  go 
marching  up  the  stem  in  three  rows. 

Well,  now,  take  an  apple  tree  twig.  How  are  the 
leaves  set  on?  To  make  a  long  story  short,  it  takes 
five  leaves  set  on,  each  a  little  above  the  last,  until 
the  sixth  leaf  comes  over  the  first,  so  that  they  go 
marching  up  in  five  ranks. 

Then  there  is  an  eight-ranked  arrangement,  as  in 
the  common  plantain,  that  is  such  a  nuisance  in  our 
yards.  Then  there  is  a  thirteen-ranked  arrangement, 
as  in  the  houseleek.  And  so  they  go  on;  next  twenty- 
one  rows,  then  thirty-four  rows,  as  in  the  pines. 

But  what  have  I  been  saying  to  you?  Two  ranks, 
and  three  and  five  and  eight,  thirteen,  twenty-one, 
thirty-four?  Do  you  detect  the  relations  between 
those  numbers?  Each  is  made  up  of  the  sum  of  the 
two  preceding.  Two  pins  three  equals  five.  Three 
plus  five  equals  eight.  Five  plus  eight  equals  thirteen. 
Eight  plus  thirteen  equals  twenty-one.  Thirteen  plus 
twenty-one  equals  thirty-four.  This  lets  us  in  to  the 
law  that  you  can  always  determine  the  number  of 


Number  in  Nature  145 

ranks  of  leaves  in  any  order  of  plants  above  the  two 
rank  and  three  rank  arrangement,  by  taking  the  sum 
of  the  ranks  in  the  two  orders  next  below  it. 

Now,  if  you  think  these  facts  over,  you  will  find 
that  you  have  also  a  law  by  which  God  has  determin 
ed  how  many  leaves  should  be  in  each  turn  around  the 
stem.  The  sum  of  the  number  of  leaves  in  a  turn 
around  the  stem  of  any  two  successive  orders  gives 
the  number  of  leaves  in  a  turn  around  the  stem  in  the 
next  higher  order. 

If  you  look  still  further  you  will  find  that  the  same 
law  God  determined  should  give  the  number  of  turns 
around  the  stem  in  every  order  before  one  leaf  should 
get  above  another. 

Still  further,  you  will  see  that  the  same  law  which 
He  adopted  settled  the  angles  at  which  the  leaves 
should  be  set  in  the  spiral  line  around  the  stem  when 
compared  with  a  line  that  ran  horizontally  around  it. 

Still  further  you  would  notice  that — considering 
that  light  and  rain  must  come  from  above,  since  the 
plants  are  to  stand  closely  together  side  by  side,  the 
number  of  leaves,  and  number  of  turns,  and  the  width 
of  the  leaves,  and  the  angles,  are  all  mathematically 
correct  in  order  to  give  the  plant  the  most  light  and 
rain.  You  will  find  this  true,  from  the  broad  leaved 
corn  plant,  with  its  few  leaves,  and  turns,  and  ranks, 
and  angles,  to  the  pines  with  their  narrow  leaves,  etc. 

And  you  would  find  that  the  botanists  had  suc 
ceeded  in  summing  up  the  mathematics  of  the  plants 
in  a  wonderful  series  of  fractions,  in  which  we  may 


146  Number  in  Nature 

think  the  thoughts  of  God  after  Him,  viz:  One-half, 
one-third,  two-fifths,  three-eighths,  five-thirteenths, 
eight-twenty-firsts,  thirteen-thirty-fourths,  and  so  on 
— the  sum  of  each  two  numerators  giving  the  next 
higher  numerator,  and  representing  the  number  of 
turns  around  the  stem;  and  the  sum  of  each  two  suc 
cessive  denominators  giving  the  sum  of  the  suceeding 
denominator,  and  representing  the  number  of  leaves  in 
each  turn. 

We  may  sum  it  all  up,  as  Professor  Gray  has  done 
in  his  botany: 

"So  the  place  of  every  leaf  on  every  plant  is  fixed 
beforehand  by  unerring  mathematical  rule.  As  the 
stem  grows  on,  leaf  after  leaf  appears  in  its  predes 
tined  place,  producing  a  perfect  symmetry;  a  sym 
metry  which  manifests  itself  not  in  one  single  monot 
onous  pattern  for  all  plants,  but  in  a  definite  number 
of  forms,  exhibited  by  different  species,  and  arithme 
tically  expressed  by  the  series  of  fractions,  one-half, 
one-third,  two-fifths,  three-eighths,  five-thirteenths, 
eight-twenty-firsts,  etc.,  according  as  the  formative 
energy  in  its  spiral  course  up  the  developing  system 
lays  down  at  corresponding  intervals  two,  three,  five, 
eight,  thirteen  or  twenty-one  ranks  of  alternate 
leaves."  (p.  75.) 

And  there  is  to  me  a  still  more  amazing  thing. 
If  you  go  down  into  the  lowest  orders  of  animate  crea 
tion,  as  distinguished  from  plants,  the  polyps  in  the 
deep  sea,  that  are  so  closely  related  to  the  plants  that 
we  can  scarcely  tell  them  from  plants — the  polyps,  that 


Number  in  Nature  147 

God  seems  to  have  evolved  from  a  plant  by  putting 
just  a  spark  of  animate  life  into  it — the  polyps,  that 
down  in  the  deep  sea  depths  get  their  living  by  wav 
ing  their  tenacles  around  in  the  food-laden  water  just 
as  the  plant  waves  its  leaves  around  in  the  food-laden 
air,  you  will  find  that  the  branches  and  tentacles  of 
the  polyps  are  set  on  the  same  great  law  that  governs 
the  plants. 

And  then  in  the  great  family  of  spined  sea- 
creatures,  the  echinodermata,  that  correspond,  on  the 
one  hand,  to  our  cactus  plants  and  other  prickly  plants 
below  them  on  land,  and  to  our  porcupines  above 
them;*you  find  the  spines  set  around  them  according 
to  the  same  laws  of  regularity  which  governs  the 
plants. 

So,  even  in  the  spined  fishes,  which  seem  to  be  a 
higher  evolution  still — in  what  the  boys  call  the 
"swell-doodle"  for  example,  along  the  Atlantic  coast, 
a  ridiculous  fish  which  swells  itself  up  when  pursued 
by  an  enemy  into  a  creature  many  times  its  true  size, 
with  its  "stickers"  pointing  out  all  over  it — you  can 
trace  the  same  mathematical  laws  which  govern  the 
plants  of  number  in  nature. 

If  "an  undevout  astronomer  is  mad,"  surely  also 
is  he  bereft  of  reason  who  can  look  into  all  these  ex 
amples  of  number  in  nature  and  account  for  them  in 
any  other  way  than  as  the  work  of  an  intelligent,  con 
triving  mind. 


Second  Sermon  on  Number  in  Nature 


Dr.  J.  C.  Jackson,  Sr.,  preached  to  a  large  audience 
at  Wesley  Chapel  last  evening  on  "Number  in  Nature." 
His  text  was :  "Who  hath  measured  the  waters  in  the 
hollow  of  his  hand,  and  meted  out  heaven  with  the 
span." — Isaiah  xl,i2. — (Ohio  State  Journal). 

Dr.  Jackson  said  in  substance:  In  the  former 
sermon  on  this  topic  we  noticed  a  few  of  the  exact 
numerical  relations  discoverable  in  chemistry,  mineral 
ogy  and  botany.  These  were  adduced  as  evidence  of 
a  God  of  creative  intelligence  and  wise  design.  Taking 
up  the  theme  where  it  was  left  off,  we  bring  forward 
a  few  more  instances  of  number  in  the  plant  world,  and 
then  pass  on  to  other  branches  of  the  subject. 

How  many  persons  present  know  whether  the 
rows  of  kernels  of  corn  on  the  cob  are  odd  or  even?  I 
have  examined  many  ears  to  find  out.  I  never  found, 
and  I  never  knew  of  anybody  who  had  found  an  ear  of 
corn  with  anything  but  an  even  number  of  rows  of  ker 
nels  upon  it.  There  is  corn  with  four  rows,  eight  rows,  ten 
rows,  twelve,  fourteen,  sixteen  and  even  twenty-four 
rows;  but  the  botanists  say  that  there  is  no  cob  that 
has  on  it  naturally  five  rows,  or  seven,  or  eleven,  or 
thirteen.  Now,  how  does  it  happen,  that  in  billions  of 
ears  of  corn  that  grow  all  over  the  fields  of  the  United 


Number  in  Nature  149 

States,  there  is  never  one  with  an  odd  number  of  rows? 
When  you  see  the  two  rows  of  buttons  up  and  down  a 
coat,  you  say  they  did  not  happen  to  take  that  arrange 
ment  by  chance.  You  declare  that  somebody  put  them 
on  regularly  thus,  and  that  a  man  would  be  a  fool  who 
said  they  got  on  any  other  way.  Is  he  any  less  a  fool 
who  declares  that  all  those  myriads  of  even  rows  of 
corn  grains  "just  happened  so?" 

We  cannot  tell  why  there  should  tie  an  even  num 
ber;  for  all  we  can  see,  corn  would  be  just  as  useful 
and  perfect  with  an  odd  number;  but  whether  the 
rows  run  straight  up  and  down  the  cob,  or  are  twisted 
around  it  by  some  mishap  to  the  ear,  the  even  number 
is  always  there.  God  reckons,  and  counts,  and  puts 
those  rows  of  corn  on  even  for  some  reason  no  man 
knows,  in  accord  with  exact  mathematical  laws. 

But  to  be  perfectly  fair,  I  have  seen  a  statement 
that  there  is  a  nine-rowed  variety  of  corn,  but  I  cannot 
substantiate  it.  But  even  supposing  this  were  true — 
which  is  very  doubtful,  what  would  the  existence  of 
an  exceptional  variety  of  corn  that  always  invariably 
had  nine  rows  of  kernels  prove?  It  would  establish 
what  is  shown  by  the  never-changing  numbers  of  rows 
on  all  other  varieties,  namely,  that  God  makes  each 
sort  in  an  unvarying  way,  and  plants  every  kernel 
mathematically,  which  proves  our  point. 

But  now,  leaving  the  cornfield,  let  us  make  our 
way  towards  the  planets.  Suppose  that  as  we  do  so 
we  should  pass  again  under  the  branches  of  the  apple 
tree  of  which  we  spoke  last  Sunday  evening.  As  we 


150  Number  in  Nature 

stop  and  look  upward  we  are  reminded  of  some  things 
that  will  help  us  to  see  the  mathematics  of  God  among 
the  stars. 

As  I  stand  and  look  at  the  apple  tree  twig  I  am 
reminded  of  one  of  the  famous  geometrical  problems 
of  the  ages :  thousands  of  years  ago,  geometers  busied 
themselves  with  the  problem  of  drawing  a  pentagon, 
or  five-sided  figure,  inside  of  a  circle.  Like  squaring 
the  circle,  or  expressing  in  figures  the  relation  of  a 
diameter  to  a  circumference,  it  sounds  easy  enough; 
but  let  anyone  do  it  in  figures  if  he  can.  The  only  way 
a  pentagon  can  be  inscribed  in  a  circle  is  by  a  compli 
cated  process  in  what  is  called  "extreme  and  mean 
ratio,"  which  is  too  difficult  for  me  to  make  plain  to  a 
popular  audience,  and  will  not  be  attempted.  By  that 
process  we  can  establish  five  approximately  equi-dis- 
tant  points  on  a  circle,  and  from  point  to  point  we 
can  draw  our  pentagon. 

Now  this  method  of  using  extreme  and  mean  ratio 
had  been  known  for  thousands  of  years  among  math 
ematicians;  but  it  was  not  suspected  to  have  been 
used  in  nature  until  1849.  Then,  for  the  first  time,  it 
was  noticed  that  the  leaves  of  the  typical  apple  tree 
were  set  on,  normally  and  ideally,  as  I  told  you  last 
Sunday  evening,  around  the  stem  of  five  exactly  equi 
distant  points.  Then  in  an  instant  it  flashed  upon  the 
minds  of  botanists  that  God  had  considered  before 
hand  the  principles  of  the  pentagon  inscribed  in  the 
circle,  and  had  divided  the  leaves  upon  the  obscure 
principles  of  extreme  and  mean  ratio. 


Number  in  Nature  151 

But  this  is  not  the  point  upon  which  I  especially 
desired  to  arrest  your  attention,  to  which  we  must  now 
come.  I  showed  you  last  Sunday  evening  how  to  get 
the  number  of  turns  around  a  stem  before  one  leaf 
came  exactly  above  another,  making  a  row  or  rank. 
You  had  to  take  the  sum  of  the  turns  in  the  two  orders 
or  species  below  it;  and  in  order  to  find  the  number 
of  leaves  in  such  a  complete  turn  around  the  stem  you 
were  to  take  the  sum  of  the  leaves  in  such  a  turn  in 
the  two  orders  next  below.  And  we  saw  that  the 
botanists  had  expressed  these  ratios  in  a  series  of 
fractions  —  one  -  half,  one--  third,  two  -  fifths,  three 
eighths,  five-thirteenths,  eight-twenty-firsts,  thirteen- 
thirty-fourths,  and  so  on.  The  singular  thing  was 
that  each  numerator  and  denominator  was  the  sum  of 
the  two  preceding  numerators  and  denominators. 

Now  comes  the  astonishing  thing.  Long  ago 
astronomers,  following  the  lead  of  Copernicus,  estab 
lished  that  the  sun  was  the  center  of  our  solar  system, 
with  the  planets  revolving  around  it  in  order.  Then 
they  began  to  measure  the  distances  between  the  orbits 
of  the  several  planets,  and  the  times  of  their  revolu 
tions  ;  that  is,  how  far  it  was  from  the  path  of  one  to 
the  path  of  another  around  the  sun,  and  how  many 
days  it  took  each  to  get  around.  Making  due  allow 
ance  for  imperfect  instruments  and  observations,  and 
the  difficulties  of  the  case,  they  found  that  Neptune 
revolved  around  the  sun  in  sixty-two  thousand  days; 
Uranus  revolved  around  the  sun  in  thirty-one  thou 
sand  days;  Saturn,  ten  thousand  three  hundred  and 


152  Number  in  Nature 

thirty-three  days;  Jupiter,  4  thousand  one  hundred 
and  thirty-three  days;  the  Asteroids,  one  thousand 
five  hundred  and  fifty, days;  Mars,  five  hundred  and 
ninety-six  days;  Earth,  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
days  and  a  fraction ;  Venus,  two  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  days  and  a  fraction;  Mercury,  eighty-seven  days 
and  a  fraction. 

Now,  the  astounding  fact  about  this  series  of 
times  of  planetary  revolution  is  that,  starting  from 
Neptune,  with  its  revolutions  of  sixty-two  thousand 
days,  and  going  down  to  the  smallest,  Mercury,  with 
its  revolution  of  eighty-seven  days,  you  find  by  figur 
ing  that  you  can  express  the  relations  of  these  num 
bers  by  the  same  series  of  fractions  that  we  use  with 
regard  to  plants,  and  that  these  fractions  are  made  up 
in  the  same  way  as  those  that  tell  the  method  of  God's 
putting  on  the  leaves. 

Starting  from  the  sixty-two  thousand  days  of 
Neptune,  the  time  of  Uranus  is  one-half  that;  and  of 
Saturn,  the  next,  one-third  of  Uranus.  Then  the  sum 
of  the  half  of  Saturn  and  the  third  of  Uranus  (I  do 
not  mean  the  numbers,  but  the  fractions),  gives  two- 
fifths  of  the  time  of  Saturn,  which  is  the  time  of 
Jupiter.  And  so  on  clear  down  to  Mercury,  which  is 
thirteen-thirty-fourths  of  the  time  of  Venus.  The 
sum  of  each  two  fractions  among  the  stars  gives  the 
fraction  expressing  the  time  of  the  next  star. 

In  other  words,  I  can  go  out  into  my  back  yard 
tonight,  and  on  the  twig  of  the  apple  tree  there,  I  may 


Number  in  Nature  153 

read  the  law  by  which  God  makes  the  eternal  stars 
turn  around  the  sun. 

The  great  God.  when  he  bowled  forth  the  worlds 
from  his  hand  and  set  them  to  spinning  round  the  sun 
in  space  used  just  the  same  principles  that  he  did  when 
he  set  the  little  leaves  to  marching  around  the  stem  of 
the  plants.  The  same  series  of  figures  do  for  both. 

I  showed  you  last  Sunday  night  how  that  same 
law  went  down  to  about  the  lowest  organized  forms 
of  animal  life,  the  polyps  beneath  the  deep  sea  waves, 
and  gave  us  the  mathematical  formulas  by  which  their 
branches  and  tentacles  were  set  on;  and  how  it  ranged 
on  up,  through  the  echinodermata;  and  then  through 
the  fishes ;  and  then  out  into  some  of  the  land  animals, 
regulating  their  spines;  and  if  I  had  time  I  could  have 
shown  you  how  it  doubtless  plants  the  very  hairs  on 
our  heads,  so  that  they  are  all  numbered,  and  feathers 
out  the  little  sparrow's  wings. 

And  now  I  have  shown  you  tonight  how  the  same 
law  mounts  up  into  the  region  of  the  stars,  and  gov 
erns  the  solemn  march  of  the  planets  around  their 
central  sun. 

The  leaves  are  marching  round  the  stems,  and 
the  stars  are  marching  round  the  sun  at  the  same 
mathematical  rates.  The  leaves  on  the  stems,  consid 
ering  their  size  and  distance  and  angles,  are  at  just 
the  right  distances  to  get  the  sunlight ;  and  the  planets, 
at  just  the  same  proportionate  distances,  according  to 
their  size  and  relations,  are  placed  in  the  same  mathe 
matical  way  to  best  get  the  light  of  the  sun.  And  yet 


154  Number  in  Nature 

there  are  stark,  staring  fools  who  can  tell  you  they 
think  all  this  "just  happened  so" — "there  is  no  God." 
I  will  guarantee  my  friend,  Dr.  Richardson,  has  no 
worse  lunacy  than  that  in  his  asylum  yonder. 

When  we  come  to  think  of  it,  it  is  not  so  strange 
that  the  plants  in  their  leaving  and  the  stars  in  their 
revolving  should  keep  time  and  step  with  each  other. 
All  are  parts  of  one  great  system  in  the  Infinite  mind. 
All  vegetation  depends  on  the  heavens  in  a  way  we 
cannot  fully  fathom;  there  are  subtle  interrelation 
ships  between  the  earth  and  the  stars — relationships 
which  science  as  yet  but  guesses  at,  and  which  form 
the  slight  basis  of  facts  underlying  the  superstitions 
of  astrology.  Everything  on  the  world  and  in  the 
skies  fits  into  something  on  this  or  that  side,  like  the 
parts  of  some  great  machine.  What  if  one  part  were 
left  out? 

There  is  only  one  possible  idea  I  can  think  of,  or 
have  ever  read  of,  that  really  gets  rid  of  God.  It  is  an 
idea  that  was  suggested  by  some  of  the  old  atheistic 
pagan  philosophers,  and  was  more  recently  worked 
out  by  the  French  skeptic,  Maupertuis.  It  is  really 
only  a  thinly  disguised  form  of  the  doctrine  that 
everything  comes  by  chance.  It  is  simply  this  in  es 
sence,  that  if  you  set  an  infinite  number  of  atoms  to 
tumbling  about  in  infinite  time,  they  would  keep  mov 
ing  on  until  they  happened  to  hit  into  a  system  which 
had  in  it  the  element  of  permanence,  and  then  they 
would  stick  there  and  go  on  in  that  system  forever. 


Number  in  Nature  155 

But  when  we  look  at  this  idea,  which  has  doubt 
less  occurred  to  some  of  us  also  in  our  mooning  hours 
of  revery,  it  vanishes  into  nothingness.  Who  started 
that  tumbling  among  the  atoms?  You  have  to  assume 
your  atoms  and  your  tumbling  at  the  outset,  which 
begs  the  whole  question  of  a  God.  As  Martineau 
says:  "You  have  to  crib  causation  and  then  deny  the 
debt." 

And  then  there  is  this  additional  fallacy,  there  is 
no  necessity  that  the  atoms  tumbling  to  all  eternity 
should  ever  fall  into  a  coherent  shape.  It  is  conceiv 
able  that  there  is  a  mathematical  possibility  they 
might,  but  the  merest  tyro  in  that  branch  of  philos 
ophy  knows  that  mathematical  possibilities  never 
prove  actual  possibilities.  It  is  a  mathematical  possi 
bility,  as  Cicero  shows  in  his  discussion  of  the  sub 
ject,  that  a  sufficient  number  of  Greek  letters  shaken 
together  in  an  urn  and  tossed  out  might  fall  so  as  to 
form  the  Iliad  of  Homer,  but  it  is  an  eternal  impossi 
bility  when  tried  by  common  sense.  And  so,  while 
chaos  theoretically  might  happen  to  fall  into  the  shape 
of  the  universe,  practically  chaos  don't  work  that 
way.  It  goes  on  forever  being  chaos ;  unless  mind  and 
power  get  hold  of  it,  as  the  Bible  says  God  did,  and 
put  it  into  shape. 

And  then  there  is  this  further  fallacy  in  the  no 
tion  of  Maupertius.  Supposing  that  chaos  did  happen 
to  fall  into  shape,  what  power  is  there  in  chaos  to  put 
the  clamps  down  on  the  tumbling  atoms  and  hold 
them  in  their  place  in  the  system?  If  they  did  acci- 


156  Number  in  Nature 

dentally  take  that  shape  one  instant  they  would  fall 
out  of  it  the  next,  as  everything  does  the  moment  God 
lets  go  of  it.  There  is  inconceivably  more  sense  in 
the  idea  that  a  woman,  by  setting  a  lot  of  batter  to 
whirling  in  a  crock,  might  have  a  perfectly-formed 
baked  sponge  cake  come  out,  all  fluted  along  the 
edges,  just  as  though  she  had  used  a  proper  cake  pan 
and  oven  without  employing  them  at  all,  than  there 
is  sense  in  the  idea  that  the  tumbling  atoms  should 
take  the  shape  of  the  universe  and  stay  in  it  without 
the  help  of  a  God. 

That  such  a  cake  should  come  out  of  a  crock  of 
whirling  batter  is  mathematically  possible,  but  not 
possible  to  the  thought  of  anybody  blessed  with  ordi 
nary  judgment. 

(Other  instances  of  number  in  nature,  based  upon 
the  number  seven  in  the  Bible,  were  given,  and  Dr. 
Jackson  closed  as  follows)  : 

When  a  boy  in  college,  number  in  astronomy  did 
more  to  establish  me  in  a  belief  in  God  than  any  other 
thing.  I  trust  the  facts  which  I  have  brought  forward 
in  these  two  evenings  may  contribute  to  a  like  end 
with  you.  For  my  own  part,  with  Lord  Bacon,  I 
would  infinitely  rather  believe  all  the  fables  of  the  Tal 
mud  than  that  this  universal  frame  of  nature,  shot 
through  and  through  with  the  most  surprising  sys 
tems  of  numbers,  was  the  product  of  anything  else 
than  an  all-wise,  all-contriving,  all-ruling  God.  To 
that  God  our  whole  being  should  bow.  So  far  as  we 
can  discover  Him  through  nature  or  revelation,  to  His 


Number  in  Nature 


157 


service  should  our  lives  be  given.  And  then  may  we 
be  sure  that  in  this  and  all  the  universe  of  worlds 
ruled  by  the  great  One,  it  will  be  well  with  us  in  time 
and  in  eternity.  To  Him  be  all  glory  and  praise  for 
ever  and  ever. 


Biographical  History. 


By  Mrs.  Viola  Chase  Jackson. 

My  husband,  John  Collins  Jackson,  was  born  in 
a  plain  country  home  near  Lancaster,  Ohio,  February 
8th,  1848.  He  was  the  oldest  of  six  children — having 
three  sisters  and  two  brothers.  His  family  on  his 
mother's  side  was  of  the  Collinses  of  Maryland,  of 
good  repute  in  the  civic  and  religious  history  of  that 
state,  and  running  back  to  before  the  Revolutionary 
war.  His  grandfather,  John  Collins,  was  a  captain  in 
the  War  of  1812.  His  great  grandmother,  Sarah  An 
derson,  was  converted  to  Methodism  about  1782,  by 
the  preaching  of  Freeborn  Garrettson  from  the  win 
dow  of  the  old  jail  in  Cambridge,  Maryland,  where  he 
was  imprisoned  for  being  a  Methodist.  From  that 
time  on  the  three  generations  were  most  of  them 
Methodists. 

My  husband's  parents  both  having  been  teachers, 
the  household  was  accustomed  to  books,  and  became 
possessed  of  a  considerable  library  of  standard  works 
in  history,  science,  literature  and  theology.  The  at 
mosphere  of  the  home  was  religious  and  intellectual 
in  an  unusual  degree.  He  received  his  early  education 
in  the  country  school,  and  owing  to  his  love  for  books, 


160  Biographical  History 

he  was  much  in  advance  of  the  average  boy  of  his  age. 

When  only  fifteen  years  old,  much  against  his 
mother's  wishes,  he  enlisted  in  Company  H,  I59th 
Ohio  Volunteer  Infantry,  as  a  musician,  for  one  hun 
dred  days,  May  2,  1864,  and  was  honorably  discharged 
August  22,  1864.  Serving  for  a  time  as  a  drummer 
and  fifer,  he  was  next  given  a  gun,  and  his  record  as  a 
soldier,  through  brief,  was  good.  His  regiment  was 
assigned  to  hold  fortifications  whose  garrisons  were 
sent  to  the  front.  In  a  letter  which  he  wrote  to  his 
mother,  as  he  was  recovering  from  measles  in  the 
hospital  at  Paterson  Park,  Baltimore,  Maryland,  he 
said:  "Mother,  I  know  I  will  be  protected,  and  taken 
care  of,  for  God  has  promised,  and  His  promises  are 
true."  In  another  letter  which  he  wrote  to  his  brother, 
he  said,  "Now,  Clark,  while  I  guard  the  rebels  away 
from  here,  you  and  Elmer  must  be  men  and  guard  the 
corn  as  it  grows,  and  work  in  the  hay  and  wheat. 
Remember  that  you  are  just  as  useful  as  I  am;  while 
I  hold  a  rifle,  you  hold  a  pitchfork,  or  hoe,  or  plow,  and 
that  it  is  just  as  honorable  as  my  big  Enfield  is  to  me." 

He  returned  from  the  service  broken  down  in 
health,  and  according  to  his  physician's  report,  it  was 
thought  he  could  not  live  long;  but  in  that  weak  body 
there  was  still  a  bravery  and  patriotism  which  ever 
remained  with  him.  One  incident  before  he  enlisted, 
characteristic  of  his  patriotic  nature',  I  particularly 
recall.  It  was  related  to  me  by  his  name-sake  cousin. 
The  Confederate  general,  John  Morgan,  had  invaded 
Ohio,  and  the  farmers  of  Fairfield  county  were  ordered 


Biographical  History  161 

out  to  serve  as  militia.  In  the  hay-field,  where  these 
boys  were  working,  was  a  man  who  immediately  be 
came  too  feeble  to  obey  the  government's  summons. 
This  was  an  unpardonable  sin,  in  my  husband's  esti 
mation,  and  he  declared,  "So-and-So  is  a  coward!" 
The  word  was  quickly  carried  to  this  man's  son,  about 
the  same  age  as  my  husband.  He  came  around,  and 
supposed  he  would  get  an  apology  for  his  father  by 
saying:  "Pap's  a  coward,  ain't  he,  John?"  But  in 
stead  of  embarrassing  the  accuser,  me  apology  he  got 
was  this :  "Yes,  he's  a  coward,  and  you'r  the  son  of  a 
coward!"  That  ended  the  affray. 

After  returning  from  his  term  of  military  service, 
my  husband's  energy  and  ambition  moved  him  to 
have  an  education.  He  entered  college  at  Athens, 
Ohio,  and  during  his  years  of  college  life  he  was  con 
tinually  pursuing  various  alleged  health  means  to 
build  himself  up  physically.  At  the  age  of  twenty- 
three  he  graduated :  his  record  was  among  the  highest 
in  his  class.  He  was  converted  while  in  college,  and 
felt  impressed  that  his  life-work  should  be  devoted  to 
the  saving  of  souls,  and  the  uplift  of  his  fellow  men. 
After  graduating  he  entered  the  Ohio  Conference,  and 
his  first  appointment  was  at  Alexandria,  then  a  half- 
station.  He  began  at  once,  with  his  church-work,  to 
study  for  an  honorary  degree,  and  after  some  years 
he  received  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy,  from 
the  college  at  Evanstown,  Illinois.  Then  another 
course  of  study  for  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Divinity, 


162  Biographical  History 

was  taken  up,  and  in  a  few  years  he  received  that  de 
gree  from  the  Ohio  University,  at  Athens. 

September  I4th,  1875,  he  was  married  to  Viola  A. 
Chase,  youngest  daughter  of  the  late  Rev.  Ira  Chase, 
then  a  member  of  the  Central  Ohio  Conference.  From 
this  union,  came  three  sons  and  one  daughter  to 
grace  and  cheer  the  home.  The  oldest  son,  Frederick 
Chase,  had  a  brilliant  mind,  grew  to  manhood,  gradu 
ated  from  medical  college  when  only  twenty-one,  went 
to  the  Philippines  as  a  lieutenant,  then  as  captain- 
surgeon.  How  proud  we  were  of  him!  But  Sep 
tember  3oth,  1902,  at  the  age  of  twenty-six,  our 
Heavenly  Father  saw  fit  to  take  him  from  us,  and 
when  it  seemed  a  little  more  than  we  could  bear,  the 
Angel  gently  whispered  to  us  and  said:  "Be  re 
signed, 

'Bear  up,  bear  on,  the  end  shall  tell, 
The  dear  Lord  ordereth  all  things  well.'  " 
May  I  be  permitted  a  few  personal  remarks  in  re 
gard  to  my  husband's  character  and  home-life?  Re 
ferring  to  a  past  which  is  so  dear  to  me,  and  one  upon 
which  I  love  to  think,  it  is  not  an  easy  task  after  the 
companion  of  one's  life  has  been  taken  away;  but  of 
that  noble  husband  and  father,  as  brave  a  character  as 
lived,  it  may  be  said.  He  could  only  be  appreciated 
fully  by  those  who  knew  him  best  and  were  nearest 
and  dearest  to  him.  He  was  very  reserved.  To  the 
closest  friend  he  had,  he  did  not  often  unbosom  him 
self.  He  did  not  let  even  his  best  friends  know  what 
he  knew  about  himself.  He  was  proud,  but  not  vain. 


Biographical  History  163 

He  never  flattered  any  one ;  he  had  no  hypocrisy  or  af 
fectation  ;  he  had  a  brilliant  and  constructive  imagina 
tion,  and  a  wonderful  memory.  In  his  home  he  was 
tender  and  unselfish;  his  devotion  as  husband  and 
father  will  ever  linger  in  the  memory  of  us  who  are 
left.  There  is  a  comfort  and  cheer  that  comes  to  us, 
as  we  think  of  the  many  years  we  were  permitted  to 
live  with  one  so  noble  and  brave. 

My  husband  was  pastor  of  some  of  the  prominent 
Methodist  churches  in  the  Ohio  Conference,  and  in 
the  Wisconsin,  and  the  Newark,  N.  J.,  Con 
ferences.  He  was  then  transferred  back  to  his  home 
Conference,  and  stationed  at  Wesley  Chapel,  Colum 
bus,  Ohio.  From  this  church  he  entered  into  the  work 
of  the  Anti-Saloon  League,  and  soon  after  became  the 
editor  of  its  official  organ,  "The  American  Issue/' 
which  position  he  held  until  the  day  of  his  death. 

He  was  a  man  of  great  courage,  and  knew  no  such 
word  as  defeat.  In  his  ministry  and  reform  work  he 
was  a  firm  and  fearless  defender  of  everything  that 
was  right.  He  had  a  push  and  energy  that  became 
contagious  and  inspired  earnestness  among  his  people. 
It  was  his  strong  will  and  determination  to  live  that 
prolonged  his  life.  After  he  was  forty  years  of  ager 
his  health  continued  to  improve  until  1905,  when  ex 
cessive  labor  induced  heart-weakness.  This  was 
farther  aggravated  in  the  winter  of  1908,  when  he  was 
taken  ill  with  a  carbuncle  on  his  neck  from  which  he 
recovered  only  by  the  use  of  the  knife,  and  months  in 
a  hospital.  His  health  from  this  time  on  was  seriously 


164  Biographical  History 

impaired,  and  only  his  wonderful  grit  kept  him  up  and 
at  work  during  the  last  ten  months  of  his  life.  He  was 
not  afraid  to  die,  but  wanted  to  live  to  see  some  farther 
results  of  the  great  reform-work  in  which  he  was  en 
gaged,  and  which  lay  so  near  his  heart. 

Since  his  college  days,  his  life  had  been  full  of 
labor  for  the  benefit  of  his  fellow  men.  His  sermons 
always  showed  earnest  study  and  great  resourceful 
ness.  He  was  a  natural  reformer,  and  believing  in 
the  work  of  the  Anti-Saloon  League,  he  devoted  the 
last  years  of  his  life  to  that  cause.  Up  to  the  second 
day  before  he  passed  away,  he  sent  out  enough  edi 
torials  for  three  weeks  to  come.  His  brain  was  never 
more  active,  and  it  was  a  source  of  great  comfort  to 
him  that  until  the  last  he  was  able  to  help  uplift 
humanity. 

He  had  talked  much  of  death  and  the  future  dur 
ing  the  last  months  of  his  illness,  and  when  the  call 
came,  it  seemed  like  not  a  leaf  had  been  left  unturned. 
The  day  before  he  passed  away,  he  felt  that  our 
separation  was  near,  and  as  I  held  his  hand,  and 
smoothed  his  brow  in  the  twilight,  he  remarked  that 
we  had  lived  together  as  husband  and  wife  nearly 
thirty-four  years,  but  said  he  felt  that  our  time  to 
part  had  about  come.  I  asked,  "My  dear,  are  you 
ready?"  and  his  answer  was:  "Yes;  if  I  die  tonight 
I  am  ready;  my  work  is  done;  the  gospel  I  have 
preached  to  others  for  almost  forty  years  has  been  the 
power  of  God  to  my  own  salvation."  And  at  the  dawn 
of  day,  on  the  following  morning,  his  spirit  passed 


Biographical  History  165 

into  the  Great  Beyond,  from  whence  no  traveler  re 
turns.  This  little  poem  best  expresses  the  very  great 
sorrow  and  loss  which  we  as  a  family  have  sustained : 

"It  singeth  low  in  every  heart, 

We  hear  it,  each  and  all — 
A  song  of  those  who  answer  not, 

However  we  may  call ; 
They  throng  the  silence  of  the  breast, 

We  see  them  as  of  yore — 
The  kind,  the  brave,  the  true,  the  sweet, 

Who  walk  with  us  no  more. 

'Tis  hard  to  take  the  burden  up 

When  these  have  laid  it  down; 
They  brightened  all  the  joy  of  life, 

They  softened  every  frown;' 
But,  O,  'tis  good  to  think  of  them 

When  we  are  troubled  sore; 
Thanks  be  to  God  that  such  have  been, 

Though  they  are  here  no  more. 

More  homelike  seems  the  vast  unknown, 

Since  they  have  entered  there ; 
To  follow  them  were  not  so  hard, 

Wherever  they  may  fare; 
They  cannot  be  where  God  is  not, 

On  any  sea  or  shore; 
Whate'er  betides,  Thy   love   abides, 

Our  God,  forevermore." 


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MORAL  LAW  and  CIVIL  LAW 

PARTS  OF  THE  SAME  THING 


BY 

COL.  ELI  F.  RITTER 

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The  American  Issue  can  furnish  all  such  ma 
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House  are  constantly  turning  out  large  quantities, 
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tions  and  sizes,  which  have  to  do  with  the  tem 
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